October 19
by genevra
Summary: October 19. It's 2340 and the phones are ringing. A devastating attack on the Navy Yard brings the NCIS team together yet threatens to tear them apart.
1. Chapter 1

**NCIS**

**October 19**

**A/N: **I had this idea ages ago (back in October incidentally) but its taken me awhile to post it. I really need to get back into writing and I thought if I posted this, it might help. It's kind of short and I actually think all of the chapters will be short, at least compared to other stories I've written. Just to warn you, the big event that happens is quite dark and tragic. I hope you enjoy it anyway. I think it's quite different to what I usually write. Not so much fluffiness. Happy reading and an early Happy New Year! It's my favourite night of the year**.**

**Summary: **October 19. It's 2340 and the phones are ringing. A devastating attack on the Navy Yard brings the NCIS team together yet threatens to tear them apart.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own nor am I affiliated with NCIS in anyway.

--=--=--=--=--

A man and a woman lay in bed asleep. They've officially been a couple for three weeks, one day, two hours and forty-seven minutes but to everybody around them, it feels like a lot longer. It's taken four years of flirting, innuendo, heartache, missed chances, wrong timing and a ridiculously grand gesture for it to happen. But ask anyone and they will tell you. No two people were ever more destined to be with each other.

The man is softly snoring, his chest rising and falling with each breath. His arm is snaked around the woman who is dreaming. She is silent but her mouth is open in a silent scream and her body is quaking in fear. Eventually she wakes herself up and she wipes her face. It is wet from tears she hadn't realised she was crying. She fumbles around in the dark for a tissue and when she can't find one, she goes to get up. The hand that was resting lightly on her hip grips it now, steadily and vice-like. She tries to pry the hand off but in doing so, she wakes him.

"You've been crying," he notes and she wonders how he can tell in the dark.

"I had another nightmare," she explains.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" he asks. He hands her a hanky from under his pillow (a habit passed down to him by his over-polite, etiquette-bound socialite mother) and he waits while she wipes her face and blows her nose. "Ziva, you can tell me anything you know."

"Tell you about what?" she asks. "How they would ask me questions and beat me even when I told the truth? How I slept sitting in a chair? Or how the only food I ate was under-cooked rice and burnt unleavened bread?"

"You could start by telling me about the nightmare," he suggests tentatively. This is new territory for them and the boundary lines have yet to be drawn.

"I just want to go back to sleep," she murmurs. She settles herself in the crook of his arm. One day she'll tell him that even though she never once saw darkness in her time in the desert, the first time she truly saw light was when she opened her eyes to find him sitting across from her.

--=--=--=--=--

Across town a man sits typing at his typewriter as quietly as he can. There is a girl sleeping on his couch and he doesn't want to wake her. The window is open and there is a soft breeze blowing through the window. He realises the last time he was so inspired was when she was around. The last time she stayed over he wrote thirty pages in three hours. He pauses for a moment and takes in her black hair free from its pig-tails and her lips free of lipstick. She almost looks like an angel, bathed in the soft glow of lamplight and he finds himself staring. She stirs, opens her eyes and watches him blearily.

"Whatcha doing, Timmy?" she asks lazily.

"Just writing," he answers.

She nods sleepily and goes back to sleep. He mentally kicks himself later. He should have just told her that he was watching her sleep and that she is beautiful and she means the world to him because she is and she does.

--=--=--=--=--

In a room that always smells of sawdust and bourbon, a man sits on a stool and stares at the ground. The 'Jenny' is gone and in her place is a pile of wood ready to be cut, carved, hammered, sanded and varnished into a boat. He thinks about how close he was to having to call her 'Ziva' and he shudders. He offered to name a boat after Abby once and after looking delighted for a split second she let loose on him. Did he think she was going to die soon? Was she in danger and she didn't know it? 'You always did know better,' she had said. Gibbs had asked her what the hell she was talking about and she shook her head and told him for such a clever man he was stupid. He grinned and repeated his question. 'You always name your boats after dead people, Gibbs,' she answered simply and his face fell. She was right. Everybody he loved inevitably died.

--=--=--=--=--

Standing on the verandah of a large Victorian house, an elderly man watches headlights disappear. Tonight he''s baby-sitting three boys with the help of his protégé, a young man himself barely out of youth (at least according to Ducky) with dark hair, glasses and a knack for putting his foot in his mouth. The three young boys belong to a doctor named Hammond. Jordan Hammond, a vivacious, intelligent and loyal woman. They have become good friends, the doctor and the ME. They share tea and swap stories though inevitably the day ends with the elder doctor telling her about a long-past time that he wished he could reclaim. But the days of his youth, the glory days, the days of breaking people out of jail, the days of crossing the English Channel in a dinghy, the days of trawling through mass graves to identify people, the days of medical school and of girls in white cotton dresses are long over. Jordan always sits quietly and lets him peal off story after story long after its time for her to go. She laughs when it's required and occasionally sheds a tear or two and always pretends to ignore the sheen that sometimes covers his eyes. She always kisses him on the cheek and gives him a big hug as she's leaving and he thanks her profusely for coming. Tonight she thanked him in advance for watching the boys and sorry but she's running late so can they do tea next week? She gives him a hug and the briefest peck on the cheek and waves as she drives down the long driveway.

--=--=--=--=--

It's October 19. The phones will start ringing at 2340. Tony will give Ziva more than one reason to love him. Timothy will find the nerve to tell Abby how he feels. Gibbs will find himself with a name for his new boat. Ducky will never see Jordan Hammond alive again.


	2. Chapter 2

**NCIS**

**October 19**

**A/N:** So I'm writing this while I'm waiting for my nail polish to dry. I have to let it dry before I can straighten my hair (I'm going out for NYE, you see) and I just smooshed my left pinkie so I hope you appreciate this. I had such an amazing and overwhelming response (well it was overwhelming to me) for the first chapter and I really felt like I had to bring it with this chapter. I hope I have done that. Thanks for the reviews and have a Happy Happy New Years Eve wherever you may be and whoever you may be with. xo

**Character note:** I think in the show Jordan is meant to be single but I don't currently have the DVDs to check. In my story, she's a single mother of three boys. She and Ducky are just friends and there is no romantic story there. Just wanted to clear that up.

**Chapter Two**

There is a loud bang and both Tony and Ziva find themselves jolted from their sleep. They both lie in bed staring at the ceiling as a series of bangs fill the room, almost like popcorn popping. But Ziva knows what the pops really are and Tony knows too. Frozen and tense they listen. Pop bang pop pop bang pop pop. It slows then finally stops and the silence that often follows a disaster comes.

They both jump out of bed and run down the stairs and out onto the street. Luckily Ziva had the foresight to grab Tony's phone and she feels it vibrating in her hand. Her eyes are peeled to the distance as she answers it. Tony tunes out and takes in an unfamiliar sky. The sirens are starting now and more people are leaving their apartments and crowding the side walk. There is nothing to see and people conspire between themselves and gather in scared groups. The only person who knows what has happened is Ziva. She slaps the phone shut and grabs Tony's arms. She pulls him away from the curb and back up stairs. She leads him into the bedroom where he slumps onto the bed. She gives him a quick run-down of the situation.

"We need to go. Gibbs and the others will be waiting for us," she says. She leaves Tony sitting on the edge of the bed and begins to rummage through her overnight bag for her clean clothes.

When she has changed into khakis and a black shirt, she washes her face and gives her teeth a quick brush. This may be the only time she has the chance to do so for who knows how long. She leaves the bathroom to find Tony still sitting on the bed. She goes around to his side of the bed and kneels beside him on the mattress. Her hands find his and they clutch each other, gripping as tight as they can.

"Tony, I know you are in shock but we need to go," she whispers. She reaches over and tenderly brushes his hair out of his eyes. "Come on, Tony. I need you. The team needs you."

"Fifty-five people, Ziva," he whispers back. "And that's only an estimate."

"I know," she replies. She has moved so she is sitting next to him and she continues to stroke his hair.

"How can you be so calm? I feel like I've had the wind knocked out of me," he asks.

"I suppose I have more experience with this than you do. Mass casualties are not an... anomaly for me," she replies and he can see her broken heart all over her face. "I am not saying it is easy for me... It's just..."

"Easier," he breathes. Her lips quiver a little and he strokes the side of her face. "I'm not judging you, Ziva. I know it's affecting you too. You just don't show it like we do."

"We need to go," she replies finally. But she gives him a kiss on the forehead as she climbs off the bed so he knows she isn't mad.

--=--=--=--=--

"Abby, wake up," McGee says. He shakes the sleeping beauty and finally she stirs.

"Timmy? What's wrong?" she asks. She sits up, stretches and yawns. There is a smile on her face and he hates that he's going to be the one to take that away from her. He never wants to anything to stop her from smiling. "I was having such a good sleep. What time is it?"

"2345. Get up. We have to go," he orders. He finds her coat and her bag and he places them on her lap. "Abby, now!"

"What is going on, McGee?" she asks again. He is zipping around the lounge room throwing things into his backpack. He glances at her and rolling her eyes, she puts her coat on and picks up her bag. "You can't expect me to hurry if I don't know what's going on."

He pauses for a moment and says, "Can you please just believe me that we need to hurry?"

When he's finished being a whirling dervish, McGee throws his arm around Abby and shuffles her out the door and into his car.

"Shouldn't I take my car?" Abby asks, now fully awake.

"I'd feel better if you were with me," McGee answers. He is watching the road intently and trying to drown out the relentless sirens piercing the night.

"Timmy, why are there so many sirens?" Abby wants to know. They turn a corner and she lets out a gasp so loud that McGee stops the car. She reaches over and clutches his hand so hard that it turns white and then purple. "Timmy, they're heading towards the..."

"I know, Abs," he answers simply. When he tells her what has happened, she cries..

And for once in her life words fail her. The sky is blazing red, blue and white as emergency cars and vans speed past, lights on and sirens blazing. It's apocalyptic, she thinks. This shouldn't be happening. Not in D.C. Not where she works. Not so close to where she lives. These kinds of things happen in movies and comics and books and in the newspapers and on the news. They just don't happen in real life. Not in her life, anyway.

She's unaware she's saying it out loud until Timothy takes her hand.

"If they didn't happen in real-life then how would people know to write about them?" he asks.

"What? Are you going to turn this into your next project? Are you going to exploit innocent people?" Abby snaps. She knows she's being unfair. If McGee were to write a book about this it would be heartfelt and would honour those who had lost their lives. It's too late to take the words back now and Abby feels her heart sink.

"No," he says his voice barely above a whisper.

They stay watching the disaster from afar until a particularly loud siren jolts them out of their shock. McGee turns the car back on and they drive towards the burning Navy Yard.

--=--=--=--=--

It's already being reported on the radio by the time the team are on the road. The five of them travel towards the NCIS headquarters and listen mutely. The DJ is shocked and it shows.

"_Reports of an attack on the Navy Yard are coming through. It seems a bomb, no two bombs, have exploded in a building where a ball honouring medal winners in the US Navy was being held. Gunmen also descended on the building and shot some of the men and women who were running to safety. There have been no reports on the amount of fatalities yet but it seems grim. Authorities have requested that people stay in their homes and be on the lookout for anything suspicious. Pardon me, that any member of the public with information or suspicions please report them to your local police. They also request that members of the public stay away as emergency crews do their job. I repeat, there has been an attack on the Navy Yard. Two bombs have exploded and gunmen have shot at survivors... "_

On and on it repeats. Bomb. Navy Yard. Gunmen. Shots. We repeat. Stay in your homes and if you have any information or you are worried about the safety of a friend of family member, please contact the police.

Finally it gets too much and in their different cars, Abby and Tony reach over and switch it off. They don't have to listen to it. They will be living it.

--=--=--=--=--

Gibbs is standing outside the NCIS headquarters. He can faintly smell metal, blood and gunfire. The smoke assaults his nostrils and he can hear sirens, loud and obnoxious. He barely notices. He isn't even sure how he got himself out of bed and to the headquarters. A rushed phone call to him turned into rushed phone calls to the rest of his team. Tonight, he's grateful that Ziva answered Tony's phone and that Abby was with McGee. Less phone calls mean less words meaning less time to dwell on the tragedy that is unfolding before his very eyes.

As if he could stop. As if he could stop thinking about it but the more he does he realises he just doesn't get it. So many words run through his head. Too many for a man who speaks only when its absolutely necessary.

Ziva and Tony turn up and he nods at them. Ziva has her business face on. Tony is silent and it scares Gibbs. He notices that his two agents are gripping each others hands as if they are each others lifeline. 'Don't let go,' thinks Gibbs. 'Don't let life tear you apart.'

Ziva breaks the silence by asking Gibbs if he has any new information. Gibbs shakes his head and even though she knows he's lying, Ziva doesn't push it. He's grateful to her tonight. He knows she's been involved in situations like this before and he also knows that behind her business look is a young, more tender woman who could crumble at any moment.

Abby and McGee turn up a few minutes later, arms around each other. Abby is shaking and has been crying. She goes immediately to Ziva who first wipes the mascara tracks off her face then hugs her with one arm. The other hand stays firmly entrenched in Tony's with no sign of moving any time soon. McGee and Tony nod at each other then the four wait silently for Gibbs to speak.

"The death toll has risen to sixty," he tells them. In numbers, five is nothing in the grand scheme of things. In ages, five is a year of first days at school and playground kisses and Devon sandwiches and that Barbie or that Transformer for Christmas. In dollars, five extra is appreciated. In death, five is five too many. "Our job is to assist the emergency response teams that are already in place. Get statements where you can, help with identification and do anything you can to make people comfortable. Abby, there will be a joint FBI and Metro forensics team collecting evidence as soon as its safe to go in. We have the closest lab. Vance has already spoken to SecNav and the evidence will be transported back here. Stay with it."

"I'd rather stay with all of you," she says quietly. She so rarely argues with one of his commands.

Gibbs nods and says, "How about if I send McGee back with you? And I know you don't like strangers in your lab this time you're going to have to deal with it."

"Okay, Gibbs," she agrees.

"It's going to be hours before we'll be able to bring the evidence back here anyway," Tim says as a way of placating her. The words are out of his mouth before he thinks about what they could mean and he finds himself stumbling to fix them up but he only makes it worse. "I mean it will take ages to collect the evidence because of the situation and we'll have to wait for them to put the fire out. I didn't mean because of the people that are... I'm sorry. I've never been in this kind of situation before."

"None of us have," Tony says, breaking his silence. He squeezes Ziva's hand tighter and she leans into him.

"You are doing just fine," Ziva adds. From someone who has been in a situation like this, she adds silently. "Can I just make a suggestion though? In an event like this, timing is critical. If you think you should do something, do it. It could be the difference between life and death."

"Ziva's right. I know this is going to be hard on all of you so don't overdo it. If it gets too much, take a break," Gibbs says. He's not really sure how to handle or how to comfort his team tonight because he's not sure how to handle or comfort himself. "Most importantly, look out for each other and stick together as much as you can. And don't worry about jurisdiction. Just get in there and take care of as many people as you can. Get them out of there and back to their families as soon as possible."

"Is there any indication of who is behind this?" Ziva asks. There is a tremor in her voice and everyone notices.

"Not yet," Gibbs answers. Then, having exhausted his word allocation for the month, he turns on his heel and walks away.

His team blindly and brokenly follow.

--=--=--=--=--

There is a strange sensation at the back of Ducky's neck. Even the normally oblivious Palmer is shooting strange looks towards the silent telephone.

"Is something wrong, Palmer?" Ducky asks. They are sitting at the dinner table with Jordan's boys eating apple pie and ice-cream. "You keep looking at the phone as if expecting it to ring."

"Do I?" Palmer asks. He shrugs and scoops some ice-cream into his mouth. He motions towards the eating, laughing children and Ducky imperceptibly nods his head.

After dessert Ducky and Palmer set the boys up with a deck of cards and leave them to entertain themselves for a few minutes.

"I just have a bad feeling," Palmer explains. "I don't know what it is. I just know that I can't shake it."

"I have the same bad feeling," Ducky agrees. He looks at the clock and frowns. "Nine-thirty. Jordan will be another two hours at least. Shall we join the boys for a game?"

"But Doctor Mallard, what about the feeling?" Palmer asks.

"We just wait for it to pass, I suppose. Sometimes these things turn out to be nothing," Ducky answers but its clear neither of them believe him.

And in two hours and twelve minutes when Jordan should be picking her sleeping boys up, Gibbs calls and they find out why. And for some reason, Ducky cant find himself to tell Gibbs that Jordan was at that very party.

--=--=--=--=--

And it falls to NCIS, to the FBI, to the NSA, to the CIA, to the firemen and women, to the paramedics and to the police to clean up the mess. To clear away the bodies of so many people who's lives have been cut short. To clean away the blood of those injured, broken and inevitably changed but alive. To clear away charred beams and burnt tiles. To find body parts in the carnage. To sweep away ashes, to take photos, to collect evidence. To do their job when all they want to do is cry.


	3. Chapter 3

**NCIS**

**October 19**

**A/N: **Well my nail polished dried but my hair would not straighten. I almost didn't want to post this because its morbid and New Year's Day should be happy but if I don't get this out while I'm inspired, I may never finish. It's a little different to the last two chapters but hopefully not too different. I hope everybody had a fantastic, fantastic New Year's Eve! I did. I got pulled into a spa in my pretty dress, discovered that pineapple juice makes all types of alcohol taste fantastic and joined my friends in a really bad rendition of the dance from 'Single Ladies.' God bless and best wishes to everyone for the new year.

**Chapter Three**

It's worse than they ever could have imagined. The building is still burning when the team gets there. The smoke is acrid, bitter and thick as it pours from the broken windows. The firemen fight it with all their water and all their might. There are people still trapped inside, hopefully alive and kicking, and they are desperate to get to them.

The paramedics are working hard already. There are twelve ambulances and another ten on the way bringing reinforcements; extra doctors, extra supplies, extra body bags. There are people everywhere. Men and women in ripped suits and blood-stained dresses, men and women in uniform. Bruised and broken, bleeding and burned. No-one escapes an injury of some kind. Most of them mill around looking shocked. Some are stoic and silent, some are screaming and agonised. Some are weeping loudly, some quietly. Some are lying on the ground, still and bleeding. One woman with a bleeding arm is screaming as a paramedic works on her husband.

The five stand taking it all in. Abby watches as a man covers a body with a white sheet. She gasps and turns away.

"I don't think I can," she whispers. McGee hugs her from behind and she leans onto him. "Timmy, I don't think I can do this."

But a man in uniform rushes up to them and waves them under the tape. She is tentative and unwilling but she goes with them. She doesn't want to be alone. The man looks at Gibbs and asks, "Where are you from?"

"NCIS," Gibbs answers. "Where do you want us?"

"I'm Detective Barton. You understand that we don't have time to fight over jurisdiction right now so if you don't mind, I'll stay in control of the situation. We're waiting on more ambulances and more medical personnel. Any fatalities are going to have to stay where they are until they can be photographed for evidence. Cover them with a white sheet. We probably won't be able to get into the building until morning. Does anybody have first aid training?" he asks. He's trying so hard to stay composed and not let the severity of what has occurred hit him.

"We all do," Gibbs answers.

"Grab a first aid kit from that table over there. Treat everyone as best you can then send them to that building. No-one is allowed to leave until they've been debriefed," he says and then having given their orders, he's gone.

"We check in every hour," Gibbs tells them. "You okay, Abs?"

"Not really," Abby replies but her voice is stronger. "I'm here to help though and help I will do. I want to catch the bastards who did this."

"So do we all," Ziva murmurs.

There's a loud crash from the building as the second floor crashes onto the first. The noise reminds that they aren't there to gawk. They are professionals who have a job to go. And so with their pained hearts and a false sense of bravado, they step blindly into the void.

--=--=--=--=--

As she watches another white sheet falling to the ground, Abby chokes back a sob. It's the fifth of the night and she's been there for ten minutes. From what they've been told, out of two hundred guests and twenty-five staff, sixty-five are dead. Thirty-seven of them were shot after fleeing the building. The other twenty-eight died from bomb-related injuries. Of the sixty-five, twelve died en route to the hospital. Fifteen people are still trapped inside the building, presumed dead. Abby finds herself praying for a miracle. Please, please please, she begs, don't let the death toll rise to eighty. Let them live. Let them live.

She turns around and sees another body. She reaches for a sheet and goes to place it on the body but then she stops.

She doesn't believe in miracles anymore.

--=--=--=--=--

It becomes a rhythm. Ask someone where they hurt. Are they bleeding? Does anything feel broken? They patch up what they can and inform paramedics when the injuries are too serious for them. They send people over to where a temporary crisis centre has been set up in the lobby of a building on the other side of the courtyard.

At first Tony thinks, 'this is not job. This is not what I do. I bag and tag and photograph and sketch. I don't patch people back up.' But then he thinks about it some more and decides he'd rather stay where he is. At least the people are alive here, some of them barely. And in a situation like this, you can do anything you're asked to do.

More ambulances arrive bringing with them all available nurses and doctors. The team are told to report to Barton. Happy to leave the medical stuff up to the professionals but worried about what their next job will be, they trundle over to him. He sends them to the crisis centre to see what they can do over there.

When they get there, they're split up. Abby and McGee are put to work answering phones for the hotline. Tony, Ziva and Gibbs are to collect the names for the hotline and to take statements. They're all handed a PDA-like device that send the names of the alive to computers so that McGee and Abby can give good news. Or bad news. Or no news. They hate that most of all.

--=--=--=--=--

It's five in the morning and the sky is getting light when the victims are allowed to start going home. Ziva is escorting a group of family members all eager to take their loved ones home, to tell them they love them and to help them heal. Ziva wishes someone was here to take her home. She's tired, dirty and heartbroken. She tells the family members not to look. She doesn't tell them they'll be scarred for life if they do but she thinks it.

Palmer turns up without Ducky. He's covered in char, blood and sweat. Ziva can tell he's been busy tending to the dead. Identifying them and trying to give them some dignity in this mess. He walks up to her and she gives him a grim look.

"It is horrible, Palmer," she whispers.

"You have no idea," he replies. He's not talking about the attack but Ziva tells him she has some idea and he realises she isn't either.

"Come with me, Palmer. Gibbs and the others are inside," she says softly. They fall into step

She leads everyone inside and watches for a moment as families and friends are reunited with tears and hugs. She sees Tony's face relax when she comes back inside but when he sees who she's found, his face falls again. He finishes up with the couple he's talking with (the woman has a bandage around her arm, the man on his face) and comes over to Ziva and Palmer.

"Did you tell him?" he asks, standing behind her.

"Tell me what?" Jimmy wants to know. But he has a look on his face that says he knows what Ziva is about to say so he says it for her. "You found Doctor Hammond, didn't you? I was looking for her but I didn't see her."

"Abby found her. She was one of the people who were shot coming out of the building," Ziva explains. "Her injuries from the bomb were quite substantial too. I am sorry."

"I'm sorry too," Tony says. He reaches for Ziva and pulls her towards him. She relaxes against him and he rests a hand on her stomach. "We tried to call Ducky but he didn't answer."

"The boys just think she's coming to pick them up in the morning because the party went later than she thought," Palmer murmurs. "What are they going to do without their mum?"

In the corner of the room, a woman checks a list. She finds the name she's after but it isn't where it should be. It's a list of the dead.

"What am I going to do?" the lady cries. She's crumbling to the ground and her grief is so strong that everybody close to her takes a step back. She has a teenage girl with her who kneels on the floor and puts her arm around her. She is crying as her mother repeats over and over, "What am I going to do?"

It isn't the first time Ziva's seen a reaction like this but never has she been this affected. She's never been in love like the before either. Never been this vulnerable, never been so weak. Ziva excuses herself for a moment. She walks into the bathroom and locks herself in a cubicle. It's there that she breaks down for the first time. She cries for a good ten minutes before wiping her eyes. After she's composed herself and splashed her face with water, she leaves the bathroom and plunges herself back into her work. Tony tries to comfort her but she doesn't want to be touched.

No one thought Ziva would be the first to break down.

--=--=--=--=--

October 20 rears its head and Ducky is asleep on the couch. He's disconnected the phone so it doesn't wake the boys. And because he's scared of what news it will bring. But six o'clock rolls around and so does seven and then not knowing becomes worse than knowing.

And with a heavy heart, he plugs in the phone and dials his assistant. Funny how he's clinging to the young man this time rather than Gibbs. But Palmer will share in his grief and Ducky needs to be able to give some comfort too.

Palmer answers and Ducky's heart falls even further.


	4. Chapter 4

**NCIS**

**October 19**

**A/N: **While I was reading this this strange person with an accent I didn't understand rang and told me my order from some unrecognisable company was ready. I haven't ordered anything so I hung up on him (plus I was watching Angus, Thongs and Perfect Snogging at the same time. I am obsessed with that movie). I'm fairly certain it was a prank call and now its bugging me! Just thought I'd share that all with you. This may seem like its moving quickly but I couldn't bring myself to write any more of the bomb sight today. A big thanks to everyone who has reviewed. It brings smiles to my face.

**Chapter Four**

Vance turns up at eleven in the morning. He would have been there earlier but he was in LA and couldn't get an earlier flight. He surveys the devastation and for once its easy to read what he's feeling. Gibbs spots him and saunters over.

"Bad, isn't it?" he asks their director.

"Worse than I expected," Vance agrees. "I think it's time you and your team went home, Gibbs. I asked around and you've been here longer than anyone else."

"This is a matter of national security," Gibbs answers which elicits a knowing look from Vance.

"There are other people here who know what they're doing. Hell, they might even be better at it," Vance replies. "Go. You and your team have gone above and beyond the call of duty. Look at Palmer. Kid looks like he's ready to faint. Take them home. Report to NCIS at 0800 tomorrow. I don't want to see any of you before then."

Gibbs looks around. All of the injured have gone home or been transported to hospitals. The dead are being taken to morgues around the tri-state area. All that's left is a huge clean-up and a mountain of evidence to go through.

"This isn't your job," Vance repeats. "There are people who are trained in this sort of clean-up. I am ordering you and your team to go home."

"Okay," Gibbs finally agrees because enough is enough and Palmer does look like he's going to fall down. "Okay."

"There was nothing you could have done about this," Vance says before Gibbs walks away. "No-one saw it coming."

"Yeah? Well maybe someone should have," Gibbs replies before he walks off.

--=--=--=--=--

She is sitting naked on the bed when he walks into the room. He stops in the doorway and she looks up at him. She looks small and scared, whimpering on the bed.

"I heard a noise," she whispers in explanation. "I came out to get my moisturiser and there was a noise. I got scared and I..."

"I'll get you a towel," he says softly. He walks past her, patting her on top of her head. He comes out of the ensuite with her cream towel and places it around her shoulders. "You're cold."

"Yes," she answers simply. He crawls onto the bed next to her and she collapses into him. She is crying and he can do nothing but pat her on the back and stroke her hair. "I thought it was all over. I thought I could move on."

"The past is the past and all that," he murmurs. His voice is soft and comforting, not accusing like she was expecting. He has done nothing but support her through the nightmares, through the irrational fears, through the pain. He has forgiven her where maybe he shouldn't have. He has not forced her to do anything she isn't ready for. He lets her stay over even though he knows neither of them will be sleeping. And now she is sitting huddled up on his bed scared of a backfiring car and he is neither laughing at her or trying to keep her naked.

What did she do to deserve him? She asks him and he laughs. He kisses her on the cheek and nuzzles her with his nose.

"You don't deserve me. You deserve better," he tells her. "I'm just damn lucky."

He pulls her closer when she starts to shiver and they sit together, not talking. Just holding each other and thinking about how lucky they are.

--=--=--=--=--

Sometimes she disappears inside herself. Just for a few moments when she thinks she's alone and no-one is watching. But Tony notices and it scares him to think about where she is in those few moments. Is she thinking of happier times? Of times when she had a family (biological, anyway)? Is she thinking of darker times? Of times when she was strapped to a chair nursing cuts and bruises? Is she thinking of him? Of times when they are just lying next to each other, rapt to be there?

He doesn't know and he'll never ask.

--=--=--=--=--

Timothy drops Abby off at her apartment. The sun is shining high now but it seems wrong and out of place. They sit in the car together, neither talking or moving.

"Abs," McGee says just as she says "Timmy."

They both pause and some awkward laughter ensues then Abby takes the lead.

"Will you come up with me? I don't know if I'm ready to be alone," she asks. McGee hesitates and she notices. "I mean, you don't have to come in if you want to go home. I just thought..."

"I want to come in," he says. "Abby, I always want to come in."

She looks at him and her eyes are sad.

"Don't start this again, Timmy, please. I know where this is going and I'm sorry but I cant tell you what you want to her," she says. "And you don't mean it. We've just been through a traumatic experience and you want to comfort me. Maybe you don't want to be alone either. You're reading too much into it."

She reaches over and pulls the door handle. She starts to get out but his voice stops her.

"I'm not reading too much into it," he murmurs. She pauses but she doesn't turn around even when she feels his hand land on her shoulder. "Abby, I'm not reading too much into it. You're just not reading enough into it."

She blinks and if he could see her eyes, he would see that she's slowly starting to realise but he cant see her and she steps out of the car. She turns around when she hears him unclip his seatbelt.

"What are you doing?" she wants to know.

"I'm coming in. You're my friend and you asked me to come in."

Things between them have changed and are unsettled. But they're still friends and they're still united as they walk inside.

--=--=--=--=--

There is a knock at Ducky's door. He doesn't know who it is. Palmer fell asleep on the couch an hour ago and Gibbs is sitting at his table with a half-empty bottle of bourbon before him. Jordan's boys are playing in the yard still unaware that their lives have changed. Ducky leaves a silent (how unremarkable) and goes to the door. He's never met the man standing before him but he knows who he is immediately.

"Mr. Hammond," he greets the man.

"Please, call me Graham. Uh, have you told the boys yet?" he asks. Jordan always said he was slightly awkward which made him always go straight to business.

"No. We were waiting for you," Ducky answers. "I am sorry for your loss, Graham."

"Me too. I'm sorry for your loss. Jordan tells me you were close. She's very fond of you," Graham replies. His face falls. "Was very fond of you, I suppose."

"She was very fond of you too. She often told me she regretted your divorce," Ducky responds. It was true Jordan had loved her ex-husband very much. The look on Graham's face was a mixture of relief and sorrow. "The boys are through the back here. I left them in the yard."

They walk past a sleeping Palmer. Ducky feels a momentary touch of tenderness for the boy and wonders if maybe he isn't too hard on him when they are working in the morgue. Palmer stirs and Ducky ushers Graham into the kitchen. Gibbs is now stands at the window and watches Michael, Patrick and Harris play. He knows all too well that their worlds are going to crumble and change in the next few minutes. Ducky and Graham seem to realise the same and they stand in silence watching them and giving them a few more moments of normalcy.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **My mother just accused me of taking a sip of her drink. I am quite aghast because for once I didn't. Mothers, huh? It was my sisters 18th birthday earlier this week so I haven't been able to update but here I am. I did a little bit of research on who would take operational control for a terrorist attack on the Navy Yard. I'm not one hundred percent sure still but I believe NCIS could take control. I decided to make it a NCIS/FBI thing with NCIS (aka Gibbs) taking the lead. I can't imagine the FBI not being involved but this is from an Aussie's P.O.V. If anyone knows the real answer, please let me know so I can make modification.

**Chapter Five**

Abby pads from the bathroom with her face clear and her hair dripping. She watches McGee as he sleeps. He's unshowered and still in his work clothes but he was so exhausted when they came upstairs that he flopped straight onto her couch. She sighs and sits on the coffee table in front of him. She knows what he feels for her and truth be told, she feels the same way. They've always been more than just friends, these two. But even for someone who loves as much and has as much love to give as Abby, it scares her how much she feels for him. She screws her mouth up into a frown and ponders. She could so easily tell him but once the words leave her mouth there's no going back. Suddenly she thinks 'this is it. I'm going to do it' but then she remembers where they have just come from, literally not figuratively, and all the work that is left to do.

She leans over and shakes McGee awake. He blinks and groans.

"What?" he barks.

"You should have a shower," Abby says gently. She yawns and remembers just how tired she is. "I'll make us some lunch and then we should have a sleep."

"We should probably stay awake until tonight or we'll ruin our sleeping patterns," he disagrees but they both yawn. She doesn't point out that he's already been asleep.

"Well you can stay awake but I'm not going to. I can't, Timmy. I need to sleep. I can't stop seeing the images in my mind," Abby replies.

"And I doubt I'll be able to stay awake," he admits. He manages to get himself standing. "Is there any of my shampoo left?"

"It's in the cupboard," Abby answers.

And off they go, to wash, to eat, to sleep, to put the images out of their mind.

But just as they're drifting off to sleep, Abby has a thought. How many people didn't get the chance to tell someone they loved them before they died last night?

--=--=--=--=--

Tony and Ziva sit at the kitchen table eating tuna sandwiches. Tony, who previously had said he wasn't hungry, is on his second sandwich. Ziva had knowingly made him a sandwich and placed it in front of him.

"I can't believe how hungry I was," he says.

"I can," Ziva replies drily. She pushes him the last quarter of her sandwich and he shoves it into his mouth. He goes to say someone and she shushes him. "Do not talk with your mouthful. You have worse table manners than a child."

He swallows and grins at her before he says, "I _was_ going to thank you for making me lunch but now..."

"You are welcome," Ziva replies with a smile. She stacks the empty plates up and takes them to the dishwasher. They are quiet as she pours washing powder in and switches it on.

"Ziva, I don't think I can sleep," Tony says quietly. She looks over at him and he is staring at the table. "I don't want to have dreams about it. I can't."

"We are so tired we probably won't have any dreams," Ziva points out. She walks back over and takes her seat. "You just have to try and wipe it from your mind. It is not easy but if you do not do it then you will dream about it."

"How do you do it?" he asks.

"Years of practice," she answers.

"I don't have years. I have minutes."

"Just think about other things. Every time you feel a memory coming on, push it out of your head and replace it with something else. It is not easy but try," she explains. "Or you can pretend you do not feel anything about it. If you remember something, shrug and say, 'oh right. I had forgotten that. Never mind. Moving on.'"

Tony gets up from his chair and walks around to Ziva. He kisses her on the forehead.

"What was that for?" she asks.

"I'd never realised how hard it was to be you," he answers. He looks into her eyes and sees they are troubled. "You can't wipe it from your mind either, can you?"

"I just keep thinking what if I did not do enough? What if we were not there fast enough? What if there was someone else we could have saved?" she admits. She rests her forehead on Tony's chest and he puts his arms around her.

Finally he sighs and says its time for bed but can they leave the television on? She agrees and they find themselves watching the last quarter of a midday movie. Ziva is the first to fall asleep but Tony notices it isn't a peaceful sleep.

It may take years to learn how not to feel but it takes less time to learn how to feel again.

--=--=--=--=--

If they thought everything was fine before, the sight of their father sends Michael, Patrick and Harris into a spin.

"Dad!" Harris exclaims. He launches himself into Graham's arms.

"Hey, man," Graham says, rubbing the top of his head good-naturedly.

"Where's Mum?" Michael asks. "She was supposed to pick us up last night but she couldn't."

"And then Palmer left in the middle of the night and he only just got home," Patrick asks, hinting for the first time that they do know something is wrong.

"Guys, why don't you sit down," Graham suggests. They take a seat at the large dining table and he joins them. "I have some bad news about Jord- I mean, about your mother."

"Is she okay? Is she hurt?" Michael, the oldest at twelve, asks. He is drumming his fingers on the table. Gibbs walks up behind him and puts his hands on the young boys shoulders. He remembers hearing that his mother has died, remembers the way it feels.

"Boys," Graham starts and then finishes. Tears well up in his eyes and he blinks them away. He swallows heavily and when he speaks again, his voice is thick with tears. "Boys, your mother died last night. The party she was at was attacked and she was shot."

Michael looks crestfallen and begins to cry. Gibbs keeps his hands on the boys shoulders and squeezes him softly every now and then to show that he's there. Patrick who has just turned ten and Harris who is seven don't take long to join their brother crying. Graham opens his arms to them and they both climb off their chairs and go over to him. He pulls Harris onto his lap and Patrick leans into his side.

It becomes too much for Ducky and he goes outside to wait it out. But he's going to be waiting a long time because this feeling is something he's never going to forget.


	6. Chapter 6

**NCIS**

**October 19**

**A/N: **I'm sorry for the lack of updates. We recently moved and we've had no internet. Then I got sick and I had three and a half days off work. You might think that means plenty of time for writing and that I would have a stockpile of chapters but a) I developed an unhealthy addiction to the Sims which I've only recently been cured of and b) I was so not in the right head space and c) I unpacked some of my books and have been re-reading my favourite books. They are 'Finding Cassie Crazy' by Jaclyn Moriarty and 'Finnikin of the Rock' by Melina Marchetta, if you're interested. I totally, absolutely recommend them! If I could have written any book it would be one of those. But enough of me and on with the show... PS. I still don't have the internet back fully so it might be a little while again before another update. And sorry sorry sorry for not replying to the last lot of reviews. I hate that I haven't because I really appreciate the reviews!!

**Chapter Six**

They report to NCIS Headquarters at 0800 promptly. Tony glibly remarks that he's never been on time before and McGee retorts that there's a first time for everything. They all laugh politely, if a little grimly, and step into the elevator. They survey the office and it seems like the lay of the land hasn't changed. Nothing has changed in their little corner of the world. They sit at their desks and wait for instruction. Around them agents go on with their daily business and follow leads leftover from the day before. And they all look at each other and wonder 'how can their lives just go on?' But then Gibbs walks in with Fornell and a bunch of Feds and Vance stands on the landing and addresses them all and they realise. Life has changed but it still goes on. And not knowing how else to deal with an upturned landscape, people just keep doing what they've always done.

--=--=--=--=--

There is very little squabbling over who gets operational control. Leon Vance sums it up in a few words. 'This was a very blatant attack on the navy. We have Agent Gibbs, we have Ziva David, we have operational control.' Who can argue with that? For once in his life, Fornell does the decent thing and agrees as long as he gets joint-lead. He offers up his team and whoever else he can find to help. Slowly the other departments do the same.

Tony puts his foot down when Vance and the other agency heads want Ziva questioned. Gibbs comes to tell him the news and he shakes his head. He's finally realised the significance of having Ziva on their team. Vance suspects the men that took Ziva prisoner and thinks she has information. The very though of it makes Tony sick. Ziva is many things but she is not a killer. Not anymore. And she would never help orchestrate something like this. He saw how she was affected. It was sadness, not guilt.

"No."

"No?" Gibbs replies. They both stare at each other, reminded of a very similar exchange not so long ago.

"That's what I said, boss," Tony continues, never losing the hard 'don't argue with me' edge to his voice. His voice softens a smidgen though when he says, "Daylight is the only time Ziva feels safe. I don't want that taken away from her."

"Nightmares?" Gibbs asks, though it could have been taken as a statement. He's seen the dark circles under both their eyes and he's never questioned them before because he knows the answer.

"Not every night but most nights," Tony replies. "Gibbs, we've just got her back and she's doing really well. I don't... No, I won't lose her again. So you can bring her in for questioning but just know that whatever happens to her, however it affects her, its on your head."

"Is that right?" Gibbs asks. If Tony looked hard enough he would have seen the small smirk but he's not done being the protective, Alpha male that Ziva never lets him be.

"That is damn right," Tony snaps. "And if you don't want to take responsibility for it then that's fine. You tell Vance and Fornell and whoever else that I made the call and I'm refusing to let her go in."

"Are you done?" Gibbs wants to know.

"No. Ziva knows nothing and to even insinuate that is absurd. She was a prisoner, Gibbs. A prisoner that they tortured, not a guest. They were asking her the questions not telling her their plans. And we don't even know if it was them anyway. Saleem is dead. You killed him. Most of their cell was killed in Somalia too.," Tony answers.

"Someone else would have just taken the reigns," Gibbs points out. "We know that we're not killing the monster when we kill a leader. We're only cutting off the arm."

"I don't care. She is not being questioned. I'll tell Vance myself if I have too," Tony replies. He and Gibbs are quietly staring at each other. Tony frowns and tilts his head in his 'I have a feeling but I don't like it' pose. "You think she has something to do with it, boss?"

"I have to go see Vance," he answers and Tony wants to hit him. He clenches his jaw and his fist and strikes out at the wall. He's not used to feeling like towards hiss boss but sometimes the man is incredibly infuriating.

But he doesn't have time right now, not even to nurse his potentially broken knuckles. He needs to get to Ziva before they do. He needs to warn her. And confirm that his feelings are right and that she is completely innocent.

--=--=--=--=--

McGee watches Tony and Ziva have an intense conversation over near the lift. There is a hurt and angry look on both their faces but he instinctively knows it isn't directed at each other. Ziva motions around with her hand as words spill from her mouth and Tony's face relaxes. He gives her a soft smile and McGee plainly sees her spit 'what?' He can't quite decipher what Tony says but Ziva's face softens and she rewards him with a quick kiss. They walk back over and McGee quickly looks away.

"Enjoy the little show, Magoo?" Tony wants to know. McGee answers him by rolling his eyes.

"Has Gibbs come back from his meeting with Vance?" Ziva asks. "I have something I would like to say to him."

A strange almost angry look comes into Tony's eyes and McGee frowns.

"What exactly were you two talking about over there?" he asks. He knows the answer is linked to that look in Tony's eyes.

"None of your business, Probie," Tony shuts him down but Ziva is feeling lenient and talkative today in a way McGee hasn't seen in awhile.

"I would like to assure him that I know nothing about this attack and I have absolutely no idea who carried it out," she explains. She watches McGee closely for his reaction. She obviously likes what she sees because she backs away ever so slightly.

"They think you had something to do with this?" McGee asks.

"It is a logical thought," Ziva shrugs. Her demeanour says she's unaffected but her eyes and her mouth say differently. "I was in close proximity to the kind of people that would plan an attack like this. I was and am a liability to your country. No-one knows what went down in that camp except for what I tell them. I would have come to the same conclusion."

"Keep your voice down," Tony hisses as Agent Sacks saunters over. He's still acting cool as ever even in the face of defeat.

"Keeping secrets from us already, Agent Dinotzo?" he asks.

"Wouldn't be hard," Tony shrugs back. He opens his mouth to further his insult but he's interrupted by the appearance of Fornell and Gibbs. Abby comes up behind them brandishing coffee and CafPow!

"Conference room in ten," Gibbs says to them all. There's a frown and a shared look between his team before they realise he means the real, official conference room. "Has anyone heard from Ducky today?"

"I tried ringing him this morning," Ziva replies. "No answer. I talked to Palmer though and he said that he stayed there last night and that Ducky seemed relatively okay this morning."

"I rang him too and he didn't answer," Abby says, her eyes filling with tears. "He never doesn't want to talk to me."

"He's not doing too well, boss," Tony says as a flicker of sadness crosses his face. He's not used to the seemingly infallible and indestructible Ducky crumbling but underneath all his wisdom and strength is a wistful, loving, melancholy man who takes things to heart.

--=--=--=--=--

Hours later when the meeting is over and everybody knows their place and their role, Abby stands staring at her computer. Her lab, normally filled with her favourite music and her favourite people, is bustling with scientists borrowed from other crime labs. Her babies are being pressed and pushed and man-handled by strangers. She wants to yell at them to all go away because she's a perfectionist and she likes to do things herself but she knows. This time she is out of her depth and she needs the help. All the evidence from the bomb scene is being routed to NCIS and the FBI while the forensics from other cases are being redirected to other labs throughout the area. It's strange to think that there are still robberies, still murders, still drug deals, still kidnappings when their entire world has been consumed by the bomb. Her every thought, her every movement, her every breath is consumed by it. By the things she saw and by the questions she has. Why? How? Who? How will they ever move on?

None of the other scientists in the lab were at the scene. It gives them an unclouded and objective vision. Abby's vision is totally clouded and not at all objective. And how can she be objective when she saw the things she saw? But somehow she rifles through the mostly unfruitful debris to find the one clue that might catch the bastards who have done this.

She decides to go see the ever-wise Ducky because if anyone is going to make sense of this all, it's him. She announces to the room that she's going to Autopsy and to only interrupt her if they really need her. She leaves the room and then stops. Because she remembers the tears on Ducky's face and the way his shoulders shook when she went to see him. Because Ducky isn't here. He's at home alone, without them, grieving the death of his friend. He says he'll be back tomorrow. He just needs a little more time. Abby sucks in her breath and blinks tears away. Because she saw the look on his face and she's not sure he'll ever be back.


	7. Chapter 7

**October 19**

**A/N:** So I've noticed something about myself in the last five days. I get hysterical over the smallest things. Not bad, sobbing hysterical, mind you. Giddy hysterical. Like watching the Mickey and Martha goodbye scene over and over in Doctor Who just because it turns out they are married and I love that idea so much I almost cried. I wonder if its a strange thing to do or just part of my personality like reading too much into things. Moving on though... I have the internet back so woohoo! I wish I could say I finished the story in that time but the honest truth is that without the internet I didn't use my computer much. But I'm back and I'll update as much as possible. I know it's been hard to read but I promise it will get better. And I know exactly where the story is going so that's a help. Thank you so much for sticking with it though. I have some awesome and loyal reviewers (you know who you are) and I would like to dedicate this chapter to them.

**Chapter Seven**

Not wanting to be apart from the people they love, Abby and McGee find themselves sitting on Tony and Ziva's couch. Technically it's just Tony's couch but Abby knows for a fact that Ziva is there every morning before work and every night after it and if that doesn't make it her couch too then she doesn't know what does. McGee is talking to his sister on the phone. She sounds pretty cut-up and Abby listens to McGee reassuring her that he is okay and that she will be too.

_'I want him to tell me that it's all going to be okay too,'_ she thinks with a sudden clarity that shocks her. She's not sure, at least not one hundred percent sure, where the thought has come from but she has a feeling that if McGee says it's all going to be okay then it will be. She wants him to comfort her and she wants to comfort him but she ruined all that years ago when she broke-up with him and then again when she told him that Amy couldn't marry Tommy. But she'd give anything to take those times back. Anything. And then he hangs up the phone and he sees the look on his face and she feels guilty for thinking about something unrelated to the bomb. She sighs sadly and he looks over at her, concerned.

"What's wrong, Abs?" he asks. She shrugs and tears well up in her eyes and she gets her wish. He leans over and very briefly presses his lips to her temple. "It's all going to be okay, Abs."

They get up and join Ziva and Tony in the kitchen.

"Has anybody talked to Ducky today?" Tony asks.

"I tried to ring him before but he didn't answer," Abby replies. "I miss him. I hope he's going to be okay. Can I do anything to help?"

"You and Probie can set the table," Tony suggests.

They busy themselves collecting knives, forks and glasses before going into the dining room. They set the table with their shoulders slouched, almost as if the weight of the world is on their shoulders.

Ziva watches them from the doorway and she frowns. She walks over to Tony who is making risotto. She stands behind him and rests her cheek on his broad back. He twists his head around to acknowledge her. She kisses him between his shoulder blades before pulling away.

"I am going to go for a run. I just need to clear my head," she says. "I might be awhile."

"Okay," he replies. He takes a moment from cooking to kiss her. "Take as long as you need."

She sneaks into the bedroom and pulls on her running gear. When she walks into the living room it's empty. She hears Abby and McGee's quiet murmurs in the kitchen with Tony. They all talk so softly lately. Softly and invariably about the bombings. It hasn't been christened anything by the media yet but it's only a matter of time.

She begins to run as soon as she hits the pavement. She's only been running for fifteen minutes when she turns home. She realises there is somewhere she needs to be and she cant get there on foot.

Because her team is broken and for some reason, she feels like she needs to fix them. Enough of their fear, enough of their anguish, enough of their uncertainty, enough of their brokenness.

--=--=--=--=--

"Where's Ziva?" McGee asks when dinner has been eaten and cleared away save for a plate in the microwave for Ziva. "I thought she was in the shower but it's been awhile."

"Went for a run," Tony explains. He checks his watch. She's been gone for an hour and a half.

"I don't think she's still running," Abby says and Tony has to agree. "I think she's waiting for us."

"I'll drive," Tony decides.

--=--=--=--=--

A man and a woman sit on an armchair and a couch, respectively. There is a pot of tea and a plate of scones between them. She set it up the way he had taught her but made the tea the way her mother had shown her when she was a little girl. They hadn't talked much save for a few words about the progress of the day. After a few silent, tension-building moments she breaks the silence.

"You need to come back to work, Ducky," Ziva says. She leans over and takes the doctor's hand. "We need you to come back. Abby is lost without you. She is already hurting enough and it kills her that she cannot be with you."

"It's lovely to hear you miss me, Ziva, and I'm sorry to put Abigail through this but I'm not ready," he replies. His eyes are distant and she is not used to seeing him like this. And if bringing up Abby is not enough then what is?

"Ducky, Jordan would not want you here alone. She would want you back in Autopsy doing what you are supposed to be doing. You need to give those people peace. You need to give their families answers. That is your job and Jordan would want you doing it. She would do the same if it were you," Ziva all but explodes.

"My dear," he says and there isn't much kindness in his voice. She wants to tell him not to call her that if he isn't going to be friendly but she's already said too much. "I am old and I have lived a good life. I should have gone first."

"But you did not. Life does not work that way. You know that better than anybody. How many of the bodies you work on are older than you? Almost none of them, Ducky," she replies.

"You didn't know Jordan like I did."

"I knew her well enough to know that she would hate to see you holing yourself up in your house," she retorts. She is aware of a presence behind her and she knows without looking up that it is Gibbs.

"She's right, Duck," he interjects. "We need you."

"Her body is still there. Jimmy refuses to let anybody else touch it," Ziva tries again. Her voice is soft, pleading and vulnerable. "You owe it to her. You owe it to yourself."

Abby, Tony and McGee turn up the with Jimmy who lets them and himself in. He heads straight to the kitchen and that's when Ziva realises how close the two doctors are despite Ducky's frustration with the young man and Jimmy's absent-mindedness. Everybody takes a seat and they chat amongst themselves. Jimmy comes back with two bowls of spaghetti bolognaise. He keeps one and places the other in front of Ducky.

"You have to eat it," he orders him.

Ducky picks the bowl up and looks around at his family. Ziva catches his eyes and she knows that tomorrow he will be there.

Jimmy is the first to leave. He cleans up the two empty bowls and then goes upstairs to sleep. He hasn't left Ducky's side except for work and neither of them would have it any other way. Tony excuses himself next to get some fresh air and McGee joins him soon after. After she's finished fawning over him, Abby joins them too. She leaves Ziva, Gibbs and Ducky and goes to find her Timmy because even though she's slightly less worried about Ducky she's still scared.

--=--=--=--=--

Ziva joins them on the back porch. She pauses before walking over to them. They are hunched over and huddled together and they look so crestfallen. Her heart aches and tears try to blind her but she blinks them away. Tony makes room for her and she settles herself in between him and Abby. She reaches over and takes his hand and holds it on her lap.

"Enough now," she says. Just that. "Enough now."

"Enough what?" McGee asks finally because nothing bothers him more these days than an unanswered question.

"Enough being sad," she explains. She feels Abby arc up next to her and she pats her knee and gives it a quick squeeze."Abby, I am not saying it is wrong to feel this way but I cannot bear to feel like this or to see you feel like this any longer. I am not strong enough. Not any more."

"I'm not too fond of it either," McGee agrees.

Abby waits for Ziva to continue, to justify herself. Tony is happy to stay quiet and let Ziva have her moment. She's old hat at situations like this and he'll listen to anything she has to say because she's a robot no longer. She's a human being. This isn't her pushing her feelings aside. And she has felt everything they have felt over the past few days and then some because she's struggling with demons of her own.

"I know this is not a normal case but how can we get justice for the families if we feel like this?" she asks. They've reduced their emotions to 'like this' because how else do you describe the spectre of emotions that they feel? "They need to grieve and they need justice to do that and we need to give it to them. It is not going to be easy and there are going to be days when it is going to be too much but we need to try. This is killing us."

"I agree with Ziva. This is what they want. The people who did this. They want us to be scared, they want us to feel this way. It's why they're called terrorists," McGee points out. He knows it isn't going to be easy but he's had just about as much crying and depression as he can handle. He's ready for them to all crawl out of the hole that has been dug for them.

Abby has relaxed next to him and she loops her arm through his. She sighs and finally says, "I guess you're right, Ziva. I hate feeling so sad all the time. But I'm sad for Ducky too. I'll try to be happier but I can't promise you anything."

"Take it one moment at a time, Abby," Ziva suggests. "Just do not let it overwhelm you any more. We still have to live."

"This isn't the only thing we need to get over," Tony says pointedly. It comes from nowhere but no-one needs him to explain. He expects Ziva to loosen her grip on his hand or let go completely but she shocks him and does neither. She hangs her head and begins to cry. Tony lets go of her hand himself and pulls her to his chest. "Shit, Ziva. I didn't mean..."

"I do not know what I would do without you. All of you," she says. "And when I was in Somalia, hoping that you were missing me and waiting for me was the only thing that kept me going."

Abby squeezes up closer to her and flings her arm around Ziva. McGee reaches across Abby and awkwardly takes her hand. They sit there for awhile all huddled up and cosy in the cool night and they're all crying and no-one is trying to pretend they aren't. Finally Tony gives Ziva a kiss on the cheek and says, "We're pretty fond of you too. But not when you're sleep-deprived so let's go."

They all laugh and when they've wiped their faces with their shirt sleeves and hems, they parade back inside. Gibbs is sitting at the table with an empty cup of coffee.

"Where's Ducky?" Abby wants to know. "I want to say goodbye."

"Asleep," Gibbs replies and they all hid a smirk at their monosyllabic boss. It's beginning to feel a lot more normal.

"I'll just leave him a note then," she says, walking purposefully over to the telephone where he always keeps a notepad and pen. She scribbles something down and places the piece of paper on the kitchen table. "You make sure he gets it."

"Yes ma'am," he agrees. He smiles softly when Abby leans down to kiss him on the cheek.

"See you tomorrow, boss," Tony says. He hasn't stopped touching Ziva and hasn't moved more than a centimetre from her side since they entered the kitchen.

"Get some sleep and eat something" Abby orders him futilely. Bourbon and coffee keep him going, not food and sleep.

She, McGee and Tony begin to walk to the door leaving Ziva behind.

"Gibbs, I am ready to talk to Vance," she says. Her voice is strong and clear but the slight shake in her hand betrays her and he realises that he too has betrayed her.

"Ziva, I..." but he's never been good with words and he's always been bad with apologies and she knows this.

"I know," she says. She gives him one of her Ziva smiles and he nods. That is all that needs to be said.


	8. Chapter 8

**October 19**

**A/N: **It's the last day of summer here in Australia and the weather is commemorating it by raining. Thank you, weather. Has anybody read the Georgia Nicolson diaries by Louise Rennison (Angus, Thongs and Full Frontal Snogging etc.)? I just finished them and even though they are written for girls who are eight years younger than me, I absolutely loved them. I recommend them to anyone who needs a laugh or who wants to remember what it was like being fourteen and fifteen. But now I have no idea what to with my life so suggestions, anyone? Please enjoy the next instalment. This is a bit of a filler but the next chapter will be more case oriented. It's supposed to be anyway.

**Chapter Eight**

"I'm going to go now," Gibbs tells Ducky who has joined him in the kitchen for a last cup of tea before bed. "Do you need anything?"

"I need you to tell me I'll be okay tomorrow," Ducky replies.

"You'll be okay tomorrow," Gibbs complies but his voice is unusually heavy. He can handle many things, even make an almost apology, but his oldest friends despair eats at him. "Is there anything I can do for you? Tomorrow, I mean. Anything that will make it easier?"

"Can you turn back time, Jethro?" Ducky asks and Gibbs shakes his head.

Would that I could, Gibbs thinks. Would that I could.

--=--=--=--=--

Despite their agreement to 'move on,' Abby and McGee find themselves back at Tony's (and Ziva's) apartment. Despite McGee's protests that he should take the couch or go home, they take the spare room and share a bed. As they lie there silently, Abby listens to the soft murmurs coming from next door.

"What do you think they're doing in there?" she whispers to McGee. She can tell by his hunched-up body that he is wide awake and probably staring at the wall.

"I don't really want to think about that," he hisses back.

"Don't be a prude," she shoots back. "I didn't mean it like that, Timmy. I meant what do you think they talk about? Do you think they talk about Somalia? The case we're working on? Their childhoods? Us? Each other? Do you think they fight? Do you think they've said 'I love you?'"

"I don't know, Abs," Timmy replies. He hears Abby 'humph' beside him and he sighs before turning onto his back. "Ziva has nightmares. Maybe they talk about those. But I doubt it because she's never been one for talking."

Silently, Abby thanks McGee for indulging her. She can't sleep tonight and she needs something to take her mind off 'things.'

"She talks to Tony," Abby disagrees. "I think something in his eyes makes her tell the truth. I should be jealous because she's my best friend but I'm glad she has him to talk to."

"Do you think they'll get married?" McGee asks and hits Abby for a six. That is the last question she was expecting from him.

"I don't know," she says, and she's being honest. "I can't see them being apart, can't see them being with anyone else. Ever. But I don't know if I can see them married either."

"Yeah. I know exactly what you mean," he agrees. "Besides, Gibbs would never allow it."

"I love Gibbs to death but sometimes I think we need to stop living by his rules and start living by our own," Abby says. This time McGee is floored.

"I thought you thought Gibbs word was law," he murmurs.

"I did. I mean, I do. When it comes to cases and stuff like that but not when it comes to personal things like relationships. Well, romantic relationships anyway. And then there's rule twelve. I mean, what is that?" she asks.

"He made it a rule to protect us. So we didn't get hurt like he did," McGee replies.

"Maybe but what he did was take away our chance to be happy with someone we really love. All of this crap with Ziva and Michael and Africa could have been avoided or at least altered. They've always belonged together even though they both kept screwing it up and fighting against it. They just belong together and Gibbs almost took that away from them," she babbles. McGee's hand finds hers under the covers and she grips it with all her might. Might be that she's not only talking about Tony and Ziva but he's not brave enough to bring it up tonight.

"If people are meant to be together, they find a way," is all he says and he knows he's talking about them.

"I hope so," she whispers. She moves so her head is on his chest. The rising and the falling of his chest comforts her as the weight of her head on his chest comforts him.

McGee plays with her hair and stares at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to catch-up with him. He thinks she's finally asleep but then she speaks.

"I'm just going to try to get through tomorrow without crying," she tells him. "Because Ziva is right. I'll never get anything done if I'm crying all the time."

"That's a good start," he replies. He kisses her on the forehead and she curls up closer to him. "I love you, Abs."

"Love you too, McGee," she replies. And it's meant in a platonic way but it's been so long since either of them has said the words out loud. And it feels good.

--=--=--=--=--

"I wish you wouldn't have said that," Tony snaps. He buttons his shirt up in such a fury that he does it wrong.

"Stand still," Ziva sighs. She reaches over to undo a button but he slaps her hand away. "Tony!"

"I can do it myself," he hisses.

"Why are you so mad at me?" she asks. She fumbles around on the dresser for a discarded elastic and uses it to pull her hair into a sleek ponytail. Tony has re-buttoned his shirt and is quietly staring at her. "Tony, answer me."

He loves the way she says his name even when she's frustrated with him. There's something about that accent, about the way she forces it from her mouth. But then the image of her strapped to a chair, hair and eyes wild and unruly, faint bruises covering her face, and he's furious again.

"I am mad at you because. Well, I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at Vance for thinking you could possibly have anything to do with this. I'm mad at Gibbs for going along with him-"

"Only at first," Ziva interrupts and wishes she hadn't when she sees Tony's dark face.

"But he still went along with it," Tony shoots back. He narrows his eyes at Ziva and snorts. "On second thoughts, I am mad at you. You played right into Vance's hand. He wanted this all along."

"I have nothing to hide, Tony," she replies. "He can ask me what he wants but I have nothing to hide."

"You have plenty to hide," Tony retorts and his voice, for a second, is so broken that she freezes. He moves over to the bed and sits down. His eyes stay glued to the carpet but they eventually draw themselves up to hers. She is leaning against the drawers looking at him. "I don't want you to have to re-live that...experience... for a moment longer than you have to. I don't want you thinking about it any more than you already do. I don't want you to have more nightmares. I don't want this to consume you. And that's why I told Vance he couldn't interview you. That's why I don't want you doing this. That is why I am mad at you. Because I want you to be able to move on."

"You told Vance he could not interview me?" she asks. She frowns and tilts her head at him. "That was stupid. And brave. But I can fight my own battles, Tony."

"I know you can but you don't need to any more. I can't let you. I fight your battles with you now. You don't do it alone. I see every emotion you feel, Ziva, and I can't pretend that it does nothing to me just like you can't pretend that you are going to come out of this 'interview' unscathed. And when you don't, just remember that I tried to stop it," he replies.

"I am sorry, Tony. I did not realise," she murmurs. She walks over to the bed and stands between his knees. He groans and leans his head on on her chest. She leans down and kisses his hair. "Please try to understand that I am not doing this to hurt you. I am doing this to help you and to help me. I need Vance to know I am innocent. That means more to me than not having a nightmare."

"It's just that I love you, Ziva, and I am always going to want to stop anything that is going to hurt you."

"I know, Tony. And that makes me love you more but I need to do this."

And so she will. And he'll be there when she does.

--=--=--=--=--

Autopsy is thriving when Abby walks in. She frowns when she realises the only other person she recognises is Palmer. She gives him a sad look and he takes a break from the body he is working on and comes over to her.

"He said he'd be here," she whispers.

"He is," Palmer replies. His eyes are watching the door as a familiar man walks in.

"You're here," Abby cheers. She rushes over to Ducky and, balancing on her platform boots, gives him a hug. "I know you said you were going to be but I didn't really think you'd come but look. You're here!"

"It's lovely to see you too, Abigail," he murmurs. He gently moves out of her embrace and begins his daily routine. His hat, coat and briefcase are placed where they belong and with an 'I will catch you later,' excuses himself to change into his scrubs.

"You're going to take good care of him, right?" Abby asks Jimmy. He realises it's more an order than a question and he nods. "Good."

"I care about him too, Abby," Palmer replies. He looks so sad for a moment that Abby can't help but hug him. She's still holding him when he says, "I knew Jordan too, you know. I spent time with her, with them both. And with her sons. He's not the only person who misses her."

"I know, Palmer," Abby sighs. She lets go of him and offers him a small, comforting smile before she walks out into the hallway.

"What are we all waiting for?" Ducky asks as he re-enters the room. He pulls on some gloves as the rest of the ME's and coroners (depending on what they call themselves) continue work. There are hundreds of bodies to identify, hundreds of causes of death to figure out and the clock is ticking. He walks over to Palmer who has gone back to his body. "Who, my young fellow, are we working on?"

"This is Glenda Hazelthorne. Her husband, Sergeant Hazelthorne, ID'd her on the night of the attack," Palmer answers.

"What were your preliminary findings?" Ducky asks his side-kick. And that's how it begins. He's changed irrevocably but he's back where he belongs.


	9. Chapter 9

**October 19**

**A/N: **Well, this was totally different in my head. Do you ever do that? You've been going to write a scene and you've kind of been talking it up. Then you write it and it's totally different to what you thought you were going to write. Anyway, this is one of those scenes. AKA the Ziva/Vance scene. For starters, it isn't them one on one but it never was going to be. Then it didn't turn out as toxic as I thought it would and the ending surprised even me. Gosh, I love being a writer. I did manage to get a little romance in here too. Aww.

**Chapter Nine**

They sit in the conference room. Ziva at the head of the table, Gibbs and Vance flank her, Fornell and three other men (Agent Kemp from the CIA, Agent Holland from Homeland Security and a man named Mr. Fox who is representing SecNav) fill more of the seats. This wasn't an interrogation, Director Vance had stressed. It was a questioning.

"You were in Somalia for three months," Vance asks. Ziva stares straight back at him. His voice doesn't lift at the end and she isn't sure if it's question or fact. "Is that correct?"

"Yes, it is," she answers, trying not to look at him pointedly. She is going to be on her best behaviour. Use her poker face and keep her voice straight, keep the answers short and clinical, not dwell on the memories, protect herself.

"And your captor was a man named Saleem Ulman," he continues and she nods. "Can you tell us anything about him?"

"Only what my- only what Director David told me. Saleem was responsible for running a terrorist training camp that was currently situated in Somalia," she replies. She's not answering any questions they haven't asked.

"What about him personally? What were your dealings with him?" Vance prods.

"He once pushed me onto the concrete floor and pressed his boot into my face," she replies. "I was still tied to the chair, mind you. That kind of thing?"

The men, except for Vance and Gibbs, squirm uncomfortably.

"Can you tell us why you were in Somalia?" Vance asks, steering the 'conversation' away.

The men listen, sometimes with pity on their faces, as she explains about Malachai ben-Gidon, Michael, her father, Tony. Fornell, Vance and Gibbs share a glance when she mentions him. But then the reminiscing is done and its time for the heavy questioning.

"At any time during your capture, did you hear Saleem or any of his men talking about a potential attack on the Navy Yard?" Fornell asks.

'Straight for the jaguar,' she thinks. There is no beating around the bush in this room. Although why they needed to go into her background when they could have just asked that question from the beginning she doesn't know.

"I did not," she answers. "I was not...privy... to any of their plans. I was a captive, a liability. I was kept in a room far enough away that I could not hear a thing. If I had been given any indication that were planning an attack of any kind, let alone one of this magnitude, I would have said something earlier."

"They obviously didn't think you were much of a liability or they would have killed you," Agent Kemp, the man representing the CIA, mentions. He doesn't seem to realise that his words all but absolve her.

"Yes, I have thought that also. Why they kept me alive, I do not know. Certainly my father thought they would kill me. Perhaps he hoped they would," she replies, knowing full well that was his hope. "But his thoughts do not matter to me now. I no longer work for Mossad and I no longer consider myself an Israeli citizen. My loyalty is to my team, to NCIS and to this county. If you want my opinion, I do not believe that Saleem was behind this."

"That's a curious statement, Agent David," Vance says. "You say you have no information and yet you offer us an opinion you haven't been asked for."

"I was an officer in Mossad for a long time before I joined NCIS. I was not an investigator but I was trained to be highly observant. I have more experience in situations like this than I do in bagging and tagging. You learn to read the signs, Director Vance. Saleem did not act like the kind of man who blows buildings up. He specialised in kidnappings and tortures like mine, in extracting information. Men like him talk of rivers of blood but they prefer one-on-one interaction. It gave him pleasure to see people in pain."

"Did you give him any information that he could have passed onto someone else then?" the Director asks.

"I cannot be sure," she admits. Her face drops for a second but she catches Gibbs eye and he winks. The unusual gesture gives her strength. "You have to understand that I was not always conscious. I could hardly keep track of days and nights. If I said something when I was unconscious or maybe even as I slipped out of consciousness, I would not be aware of it. I do not believe that I did though. I believe, however, that if I had, Saleem would have jumped on it."

"In your incident report, you mention that one of the first things Saleem said to you was 'tell me everything you know about NCIS.' Why would you then assume that he isn't behind this attack?" Vance asks. His poker face is one of the best Ziva has ever seen.

"Because the attack was not targeted specifically at NCIS."

"But he would have known that you have jurisdiction over the area," Agent Kemp interrupts.

"Would he, Agent Kemp? Because I myself was not sure who had control until two days ago when it was given to Vance. This was an act of terrorism. How could he have been sure we would get jurisdiction?" she replies calmly.

"Another thing, Miss David," Agent Holland begins but he's interrupted by Gibbs.

"It's Special Agent David," he corrects.

"Another thing, _Special Agent_ David," he says with a snarl. "You say the attack wasn't targeted specifically at NCIS. How do you know that? There have been no claims to the attack meaning there is no indication of who the attack was aimed at. You have also stated that you know nothing of the attacks."

"This was a ball commemorating Marines who had served in the Middle East. One would assume that it was a retaliation attack. I would assume that. If it were aimed at NCIS, I would think they would blow our headquarters up or perhaps take out particular agents. Wouldn't you?" she replies. She feels Gibbs' eyes on her saying 'never assume' but she's being accused of something so horrible, so inhumane, so against her training and her beliefs that she doesn't care. "I know that most of you are unaware of my past but I can assure you that I have seen enough bombs and broken bodies in my lifetime. Nothing could ever persuade me to take part in something that would cause another."

"You have a background as an assassin," Kemp points out.

"Are you asking me to explain that?" she asks. He nods. "I was _metsada_ when I worked for Mossad, yes. It is not highly unusual. I killed when our Prime Minister deemed it necessary and only then."

"You mean in your capacity as '_metsada_.' I find it hard to believe that someone who wants to live so much wouldn't have killed on other operations," Kemp continues.

"Are you asking out of professional curiosity, Agent Kemp? Or do you believe my background will give you answers? Because, and forgive me for being rude, we are wasting valuable time here. I should be out there with my team trying to figure out who did this so we can bring them to justice. That is what I do now. I bring justice to people who deserve it. I am not an assassin anymore and I have no desire to be nor do I have any information other than what I have given you."

"Agent David is right. We are here to find out what she knows and she has shown she knows nothing," Vance agrees. "Does anybody else disagree?"

"I'm with you, Director Vance, and I'll let my superiors know," Agent Holland says, despite his hostile question.

"And me," Kemp adds. He looks slightly wounded at his rebuke but he recovers quickly. "If anything comes to mind though, I would expect Agent David will let us know."

"I'm satisfied that she knows nothing," Fornell says. "Never thought she did."

Gibbs can't quite hide the smile and she can't believe she's gotten away so lightly. That's when she realises the whole thing is a farce. Vance has never believed she had anything to do with it. But someone wants answers and they were willing to use her as a scapegoat to get them.

--=--=--=--=--

She's not surprised to see Tony pacing outside the room. He grabs her arm and pulls her around the corner, away from the retreating agents.

"How did it go?" he asks, his eyes travelling all over her face in concern.

"Surprisingly well," she murmurs. She tugs him a little bit further away. "Vance never believed I had anything to do with it."

"You're joking, right?" Tony scoffs. "He was out for your blood, Ziva. I saw him. He was convinced you were behind this."

"I think he knows who is behind it," she whispers. "At the very least he has an idea. Perhaps he has covering for someone. I don't know but I do know that he thinks I'm innocent."

"Because you are," Tony replies. His voice is calm but then the jaw starts popping and she realises he's furious. She puts a calming hand on his shoulder but he shrugs it away. "He saw what you were like when you came back. He knows what they did to you in that camp and he still made you go through that."

"I chose to be questioned," she reminds him.

"But he could have stopped it," he snaps.

"I have already told you, I would rather go through that than have people think I am a terrorist," she sighs.

"Anyone who honestly believes that has rocks in their head," he says. "And Gibbs. Gibbs knew."

"Gibbs always has a plan, Tony. If he let that happen then I trust him," she replies. She takes a step forward and he puts his arms around her. "You need to trust him too."

"I do trust him," Tony admits. He rests his chin on her head. "It's just..."

"I know, _neshama,_" she replies. "But don't be bitter. I am fine."

He smiles and pulls her closer. He loves it when she calls him '_neshama._' It's Hebrew for darling, she said. But he looked it up and found out the literal meaning was 'soul' and from 'soul' he gets 'soul mate.' Hearing it from someone like Ziva who has never been one for terms of endearment almost makes him cry.

It reminds him of how much she loves him.

And with her face pressed into his chest, Ziva smiles. She knows how much Tony loves that particular endearment. And she really does feel that way. Especially today when he's ready to be angry at the man who is practically his father on her behalf. Especially when he's distressed at the thought of her being in distress.

It reminds her of how much he loves her.


	10. Chapter 10

**NCIS**

**October 19**

**A/N:** I know she'll never read this but I want to dedicate this chapter to my dear friend, Claudia. Everybody should be so blessed as to have a Claudia in their life. She told me today I should write a book because I am a writer and it suits my personality down to the ground. I'm not sure whether that's a good thing or not but I loved her for it anyway. Get yourselves a Claudia. You won't regret it! We get a little more into the case this time. Eep. My knowledge of bombs is mostly what I've gleaned off TV shows and movies. Again I did some research but the technical stuff is still beyond me. Happy reading.

**Chapter Ten**

Under the rubble and debris, one of the bombs is finally discovered. Once its been fully vetted by the bomb squad and they've confirmed and re-confirmed that it has finished its killing and blowing up spree, the pieces are transported back to the Labby. She pokes and prods, assembles and re-assembles, mutters under her breaths, types components and pieces into her computer and finally comes up with a match. She frowns, reads the bio again and picks up the phone.

"Gibbs? I have a lead," she says.

--=--=--=--=--

"Who do we know in Ireland?" Abby whispers to McGee.

"Why are you whispering?" he asks in his normal voice. He looks around the lab and frowns. The other scientists and analysts have gone to lunch and its just the team waiting for their fearless leader.

"Obviously it's a secret," Tony answers, humouring their scientist friend. He's often thought that her confinement to the Lab has made her a little kooky.

"Why do you ask?" Ziva wants to know.

"This isn't how this was supposed to work," Abby groans. She takes a long sip of her Caf-Pow! and then slams it back down on the table. "I was supposed to ask 'who do we know in Ireland' and you were supposed to tell me who we know in Ireland."

"I worked an op there back when I first started with the Mossad but I have only been there once," Ziva answers. "I did know somebody there and now I do not."

"I have family over there," McGee replies.

"You people just don't get it," she huffs. "I don't mean who do _you_ knowin Ireland, I mean who do we as a government organisation know in Ireland."

"Ohh..." comes from all three of them. And then...

"Nobody comes to mind," Ziva says with a frown. Her mind is still ticking over and Abby wonders if she's been premature in answering.

"I can look up the most wanted list and see who lives in Ireland," McGee says pulling out his PDA.

"I can entertain you all with an Irish accent," Tony offers. "That's all I've got, I'm afraid."

"Abby, why do you ask?" says Ziva.

"Tell us, Abs," Gibbs says announcing his presence.

"I ran the particulates from the bomb. You know how every bomb maker has a signature? That little mark they put on their bombs to let everybody else know it's theirs? This one had green duct tape completely covering the base. When I put the components into Interpol, I got a match."

"Mara Cohen," Ziva interrupts.

"I was going to say Rebecca O'Donnell," Abby replies. She pulls up a photo of a very beautiful woman walking down a street in a swing coat and beret.

"Of course she would have changed her name," Ziva murmurs. She looks up at the perplexed trio. "It all makes sense. Where else could a bomb maker fit in but in a country full of other bomb makers."

"Bomb making isn't unique to Ireland, you know," McGee says, sensitive about his relatives homeland.

"I come from Israel, McGee," she replies drily. "I know."

"Do you want to explain how you know this Mara?" asks Gibbs.

"Mara was a Mossad Officer back when I first joined. You would all know that sometimes a distraction is required before you can gather information or extract someone safely. That was Mara's speciality. Explosives in particular. She was good at her job but then things started going amiss. Mara's 'distractions' seemed to be targeted at specific individuals or buildings and they were not always sanctioned. She defected before any solid evidence was found. I was part of the task force that searched for her. It was my second assignment and it was the first one I failed. We looked everywhere for her, followed every lead no matter how inconsequential and yet we could never find her."

"Who did she defect too?" Tony asks.

"From the information we did find, she went freelance. Better money but less protection. Or so we thought. She disappeared off the face of the Earth and I do not know what is more protected than that," Ziva answers. "What else do you know about her?"

"All the information I found on her said that she was born in Greece in 1971 and that she lived there until she married and Irishman in 2001 and moved there with him," Abby answers. "It said nothing about her being ex-Mossad or even about being Israeli."

"This doesn't make sense," McGee muses. "If you found a match on Interpol then surely Mossad would have come across it.

"Very astute, Elf Lord," Tony tells him. He turns to Ziva. "Why did you stop searching for Mara Rebecca Cohen O'Donnell?"

"Because we found her," Ziva enunciates slowly. She pauses while the inevitable glance exchange happens between the rest of the team. When they've finished and Gibbs is watching her impatiently, she continues. "We were given orders from up above not to apprehend her. We were told very clearly to stand down and move on."

"Where was she when you found her?" Abby asks. "I might be able to track some information down."

"In Egypt. Cairo, to be precise. She was working for an organisation, the Third Day Movement. They're cover was a building demolishing business," Ziva answers.

"A legitimate excuse to make bombs," Tony muses.

"Exactly," replies Ziva.

"Who told you to stand down?" Gibbs asks, his solitary query throughout the conversation.

"My father," Ziva answers. And everything changes again.

--=--=--=--=--

Gibbs lets them leave for the night at the respectable hour of 2000. Abby and McGee make plans to check in on Ducky before meeting Tony and Ziva for dinner. The four of them take the elevator down together. Ziva and Tony lag behind as Abby pulls McGee out.

"Are you coming?" Abby asks impatiently.

"We're right behind you," Tony replies. He's been watching a frowning Ziva and he's dying to get her alone. He waits until the other two are on their way to their cars before reaching over and stroking her face. "Penny for your thoughts."

"I have no use for a penny," she parries back lightly but her eyes are dark and brooding.

"You could just talk to me then," he suggests. "Please."

"Okay but not here. When we get home," she replies. She offers him her hand. He grabs it and lets her lead him outside. Abby and McGee are in the distance, heads bent together and oblivious to anyone else. "They would make a cute couple."

"We make a cute couple," he retorts eliciting a roll of the eyes from her. But there's a glimmer, a ghost of a smile and it makes the corny joke worth it.

--=--=--=--=--

Abby practically skips into Ducky's and McGee shuffles in behind her. Palmer, reliable as clockwork, is stirring sauce in the kitchen. Ducky is on the phone to Graham Hammond but he hangs up soon after the two arrive.

"Abigail, Timothy. What brings you to my door?" he wonders.

"We just wanted to see how you were going," Abby answers. She kisses him on the top of the head and laces her arms around his neck. "How was it today?"

"Today was much better than I had anticipated. Having a purpose certainly takes your mind off things," he answers. His answers are stock standard but Ducky is incapable of telling a lie.

"You seem a lot better," McGee adds tentatively. "It's good to see."

"Yes. I was just talking to Graham about the funeral. He has asked me to give a eulogy for Jordan. It's quite an honour remembering such a fine woman."

"Does he have any idea when the funeral can be held?" Abby asks.

"So many people need to be buried," Palmer adds. "I heard they're considering doing multiple burials to get them all done."

"Doctor Hammond deserves more respect than that," McGee interjects. "They all deserve more than that."

"I think it's just the unclaimed and unidentifiable bodies," Palmer says, his voice low and regretful. He turns his attention back to stirring the sauce as a noticeable gloom settles over the room.

"The funeral is next Wednesday at 1100. I'd like you all to come if Gibbs will allow it," Ducky says quickly.

"We'll be there," McGee answers for everyone. He checks the time and prods Abby. "We should probably go. We're meeting Tony and Ziva."

"Discussing the new developments, I'm sure," Ducky says. He gives them a small smile. "Thank you very much for coming."

"We'll see you tomorrow morning," Abby says seriously. She gives him another kiss on the forehead. She waves at Palmer. "See you tomorrow, Jimmy."

"Yeah. Bye," he says but he's distracted.

And they leave the doctor and his protégé behind and none of them know if they've made things better or worse.

--=--=--=--=--

They sit on the edge of the bed and postulate. Ziva is agitated and Tony is trying to take everything in.

"This is all too much of a coincidence and I am starting to understand why Gibbs does not believe in them," she starts. "An ex-Mossad officer just happens to build the bombs in an explosion that another ex-Mossad officer is investigating."

"And you've always said you don't leave Mossad, Mossad leaves you," Tony adds. "Which is definitely true in Mara's case."

"Yes. And do you know how many former Mossad officers live in D.C.? I will tell you, Tony. One. Me," she continues. She sighs. "There is too much Mossad here."

"So what are you saying? That Mossad is behind the attack?" Tony asks. He shakes his head. "That will not be good for the relationship between Israel and the United States."

"I do not think Mossad was behind the attack. I know who might be behind it though and I think Vance knows too," Ziva replies.

"And it's not good," says Tony.

"It is not good at all," Ziva agrees. She shuffles closer to Tony and he holds her close.

--=--=--=--=--

Gibbs takes a sip of his bourbon and appraises his newest boat. He's completed the frame and it's time to fill in the gaps. He takes another sip before picking up a used piece of sand-paper. He's had enough of politics, ploys and power-plays for the day and he wants to lose himself in the familiar motions. He copped some slack for letting his team leave while other teams were still working hard chasing leads and doing paperwork. But he knows his team and he knows that wherever they are, they're still working. No matter what Ziva may have said about moving on and leaving things behind, they will be working on and talking through the days new breakthroughs.

And his gut feeling is that things are going to get worse before they get better. And it tells him that when they untangle this mess that its going to kill them just a little bit. But it also tells him that they are going to be fine. Because they're family. He'll probably never say it aloud but he'll think it every day. He loves his team, his second family, and he hates putting them through this.


	11. Chapter 11

**NCIS**

**October 19**

**A/N:** When I did the spell-check, not a single word came up. I was so amazed. Normally the whole Australian vs. America spelling gives it a workout but this time zip, nada, nothing (until I wrote nada). Happy reading. Thanks for all the reviews. I appreciate every single one.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own nor am I affiliated with NCIS in anyway.

**Chapter Eleven**

"I am going for a run," Ziva says, tying her hair up with an elastic.

"This late?" Tony asks, looking up briefly from his magazine. "It's dark."

"I can take care of myself," she smiles. She walks over to the bed and drops a kiss on his cheek. He grabs her hand and she chuckles. "Tony, please do not start this."

"You should stay and keep me company," he suggests. Ziva gives him a look and he drops her hand. "Fine then, my ninja. But I'm only letting you go because I value my hand."

"I am going to stop by my apartment later. I am almost out of fresh clothes," she tells him.

"I don't know why you bother having an apartment. You're here all the time anyway," he notes as he flips the page. He is met with silence. He looks up and finds Ziva staring at him, an inscrutable expression on her face.

"Can we speak about this later? I want to go before it gets too late," she replies.

"Yeah, sure. Be safe," he replies. She gives him that smile and narrows her eyes at him. That's how he knows everything is alright.

--=--=--=--=--

"Gibbs."

The name is like a gunshot in the quiet. He had heard the warning footsteps as she ambled down the stairs but in his bourbon haze he misjudged the time her descent would take.

"Ziva," he replies.

"I need to talk to you," she says. It mirrors a conversation or two they've shared in the past. But while this one might end in tears, it at least won't end in a gunshot. She takes the stool without waiting for it to be offered to her.

"What's up?" he wants to know. He wants to get back to his bourbon and his ruminating and he has a feeling (how frequently they come tonight) that this conversation is going to ruin any chance of that.

"I was not completely honest about my relationship with Mara," Ziva answers, her voice slightly stilted. Gibbs watches her and he waits for her to continue. "We were friends. Good friends. And I betrayed her. We kept in contact after she left Mossad. I was the one who led my father and Mossad to her. I regretted it immediately. I was young and I had something to prove. Mara understood. She knew the pressure we were under in our early days. It was more so for me."

"Daughter of the Deputy Director," Gibbs muses.

"On track to becoming a control officer. It came with being a David," Ziva agrees. "But that is not the point. The point is I was friends with Mara up until the time I came to America and then I lost contact."

"Ari?" he asks.

"They were involved. That was why we were close," Ziva explains. "I told her the truth about his...death. I have not talked to her since."

"Do you think she planted the bomb to try and implicate you? She would have known we would trace the bomb back to her," says Gibbs. "She would have known the Mossad connection would raise a red flag."

"No. I do not think so. If Mara wanted revenge, we would not be having this conversation," Ziva replies. "Something about her involvement does not seem right though."

"You knew her, Ziva. People change," Gibbs says. "You said she worked for a mercenary in Cairo. Mercenaries rarely care about lives. Who knows how much she has changed in four years."

"I am not referring to the loss of lives. Mara lost a younger brother and sister in much the same way I lost my Tali. I found it hard at first to believe, having been what she had been through, that she would create bombs that were going to kill civilians. But there are means of convincing people to do anything. She convinced me. Perhaps it was because of what happened to her family. She had a total disregard for human life. She was greedy. She was a horrible human being, the kind that I hate. The kind that profits from other peoples misfortunes The signs were always there. She was never a team player. She was always out for herself, always wondering what she could get out of a situation."

"And yet you loved her."

"Does a father stop loving his son because he is a mass murderer?" she asks. "She was not always that way. This is why I did not tell anyone about our friendship. You can understand a father still loving his son but how could I still love Mara after what she has done? She is continuing the war I am fighting against. Can you imagine what Abby would say if she knew?"

"Can't help how you feel," Gibbs reminds her.

She seems to sink into herself. It's written across her face and in those eyes that, according to Tony, just won't shut up. The admittance that the bomb-maker was her former friend and a potential sister in-law has affected her but it's not the only thing bothering her. Something still isn't right.

"Gibbs, I believe that Mara made the bombs. But I do not think she planted them. In fact the chances are quite high that she did not even know where they were going," Ziva says. He nods. It's plausible. "Do you think my father is behind this? Maybe he is sending me a message."

"What kind of message?" Gibbs asks.

"That I am not safe. That he is never going to leave me alone," she ponders. She shudders. "That he is still calling the shots."

"I don't know," Gibbs replies. But he does know. He's just waiting for Ziva to figure it out by herself. "Do you?"

She thinks about for a few minutes and then she sighs.

"No," she answers finally. "My father may have wanted me dead but I cannot imagine him executing something as evil as this. I do think he knows what's going on."

Gibbs takes a sip of his bourbon and passes the glass to Ziva who takes a big gulp. They sit in silence, him in his old NIS shirt and she in her running gear. The basement is quiet and the smell of sawdust and varnish comforting. Not that either of them feel any comfort tonight.

Gibbs surprises them both by pulling her into his arms and planting a kiss on her forehead.

"We will figure this out, Ziva," he says finally. "But you stay away from your father. If he's involved we'll figure it out but you leave him to me. He is not going to hurt you more than he already has. You belong to us now."

--=--=--=--=--

When Vance enters his office Gibbs is waiting for him. He wordlessly puts his briefcase away, sits down, pulls a new toothpick out of his top drawer and folds his hands on the desk.

"You have a question, Agent Gibbs?" he wonders.

"One or two. When you first told me you wanted to question Ziva you said it was because of her time in Somalia. She figured out pretty quickly that she was just a scapegoat," he starts. "I only let you question her because I knew it would get the other agencies off her back."

"I'm not hearing a question, Gibbs," Vance replies.

"Do you know who planted the bombs, Leon? Because I find it strange that they were built by an ex-Mossad operative and that the only person who has been officially interrogated so far has been another ex-Mossad operative," Gibbs retorts. "Almost as if someone planned it. And you know how I feel about coincidences."

"How could I have known they were built by an ex-Mossad officer?" he answers smoothly. As usual his face gives away nothing. It's impassive and unyielding. "Agent David was questioned before we knew who made the bombs."

"I didn't ask if you knew who built the bombs. I asked if you knew who planted them," counters Gibbs.

Vance looks at Gibbs and chews his toothpick. Finally he lifts one eyebrow then drops it.

"You'd better close the door," he says.

--=--=--=--=--

The phone on Gibbs desk is ringing. The team look at each other warily, each daring the other to pick it up with their eyes. Finally it stops and McGee's phone rings. He answers it and rolls his eyes. He covers the mouthpiece with his hand and says, "It's Abby."

"Ask her if I left my sandwich in her fridge yesterday," Tony demands. He groans as Tim hangs up the phone.

"Ask her yourself. She want to see us in the lab," McGee replies.

"Does she know Gibbs is in with Vance?" asks Ziva. She waits for McGee at the entrance to the bullpen.

"I didn't ask," he admits. "She seemed pretty agitated though."

They make their way down to the lab as quickly as possible and find it full of strange people. Abby is in her office and she waves them in. Her pigtails have gone wild and she has the face to match.

"Whoa. Calm down, Abby. What's going on?" Tony asks.

"Doctor Inman was working on the particles from another of the bombs," she starts. "And when he typed the components into the computer, he came up with something strange."

"Like what?" McGee prods.

"It looks like there was more than one bomber. And you're not going to like who it is."


	12. Chapter 12

**NCIS**

**October 19**

**A/N:** I woke-up and my first thought was 'I don't want to go to work.' My second thought was 'Oh no. I've slept in. I must have set my alarm for my Saturday time instead of my Friday time' so I checked my phone and I had. My third thought was 'Hang on, maybe it is Saturday.' I checked my phone again and it IS Saturday! I almost cried with relief. So I was up at the crack of dawn (7am) and I would have much preferred to sleep but I thought 'Why waste the day?' Now it is 10am and I have: cleaned the kitchen, unloaded the dishwasher, had a conversation with my dad, made French toast, had breakfast with my mum, had two perfect cups of tea (Earl Grey with 1 sugar and a tiny bit of skim milk) and written this. Productive day or what? Now on to change my sheets and pack my overnight bag... Enjoy!

**Chapter Twelve**

"A second bobmber?" Tony asks. He narrows his eyes. "Why would there be a second bomber?"

"I don't know," Abby replies in exasperation. "I just know that there is one and you aren't going to like who it is."

"You have said that already," Ziva points out. She watches Abby's face fall and she knows. "You need to say it, Abby, or I will not believe you."

"Say what?" McGee asks.

"Yeah. Say what? I'm the senior agent here. I should know what's going on more than you two," Tony adds but he slinks closer to Ziva.

"Jacob Hess. He is also Mossad. The only difference is he's still in Mossad," replies Abby. She has a nervous look on her face and she's twisiting her hands together as if she's afraid she's given them the wrong answer.

Ziva squeezes her eyes together and her hand clutches the metal desk. She feels Tony hovering behind her. He lightly presses his arm into her back and then pulls away. She takes a few moments to calm her breathing, opens her eyes and finds them all staring at her.

"I was not completely honest with you," she starts. Abby's eyes narrow and Ziva frowns internally. Abby is usually the last person to judge. "About my relationship with Mara Cohen. We were... friends. We were close friends. She and my brother Ari were in a relationship. I thought they were going to get married but then... Anyway, when she defected and fled, I was absolutely devastated. Part of my diligence in trying to find her was because I wanted answers. I was only twenty. I felt abandoned, betrayed. She was going to be my sister in-law..."

She trails off at the repeated words and lowers her eyes. She raises them after a moment and forces herself to look each of her friends in the eyes. Tony's eyes, after the initial flicker of hurt, are full of compassion. McGee looks shocked. Abby's eyes scare her the most. Her breath catches in her throat. What happened to their unconditional loving friend?

"Abby, why are you looking at me like that?" Ziva asks brokenly.

"You seem to like having serial killers for friends," Abby spits. "Ari, Mara, Jacob."

"I was not friends with Jacob," Ziva whispers. "And Ari was my brother. It was different. He was my family just like you are family."

"We are nothing like him," snaps Abby.

"What was your relationship with Jacob?" Tony asks evenly. He stands as close as before but now his arms are crossed.

"We were on the same team. We were never friends. I did not like him. He... unsettled me. But I still do not think he is capable of something like this."

"People change," McGee murmurs and she wants to cover her ears.

Abby, however, goes straight for the jugular.

"You didn't think Ari was capable of murder and look at what he did. He murdered innocent people. He joined Hamas. He turned on his country, on his family. People are capable of anything."

"Ouch, Abby," replies Ziva. There are tears prickling in her eyes and she blinks them away. Too bad she can't blink the lump in her throat or the pain in her heart away.

--=--=--=--=--

"And you knew about this?" Gibbs asks. He pushes his chair away from the desk and stands up. "Leon, you should have told me."

"I don't have to tell you anything I don't want to," Vance answers. He doesn't realise, though he suspects, his agent has had the same conversation with many a NCIS director. "I made the call not to tell you and I stand by my decision."

"It wasn't your decision to make," Gibbs practically yells.

"Yes, it was," Vance says. He hasn't risen his voice yet but it still holds his calm authority.

"Not when it's one of my people in danger you don't. I'm responsible for them. Me! How can I protect them when I don't know they're in danger?" he asks.

"They can look after themselves," Vance replies. It's true but they aren't fighting over Gibbs' teams ability to protect themselves. "And besides, it isn't me you should be angry at."

"It isn't? Because it damn well feels like that," snaps Gibbs. "This isn't just about my team. It's about national security."

"We could never have foreseen this," Vance retorts. The first traces of anger have crept into his voice. "I will not have you accusing me of putting my countrymen in danger."

"Well it sure seems that way to me, Leon," replies Gibbs. His voice had slightly calmed but there is steely anger in his blue eyes. He comes closer to the Director and leans down to talk to him. "I hate to be disrespectful, sir, but the next time one of my team members is in danger, you will come directly to me."

"Is that an... order?" Vance asks calmly. He's mocking Gibbs but Gibbs just continues his steely glare. Vance sighs and Gibbs turns to walk out the door. Just as his hand has turned the handle, Vance calls out, "It isn't me you should be mad at. Eli had every chance to tell his daughter. And he didn't because telling her would have changed nothing."

"You didn't give us a chance," Gibbs says. He turns around briefly. "I always thought you were the better man. I guess I was wrong."

--=--=--=--=--

With a sigh, Ducky pulls the sheet over another victim and slides them into their locker. Finally he is alone. The ME's have been working in shifts and the task of identifying and examining one hundred and seven bodies is getting closer to being done. He particularly feels sorry for the hospital that is being used for body parts. The process of sifting through arms, legs and torsos falls to an unlucky number of men and women. Every day they take DNA samples and try to return the parts to their rightful owners. Every day they fail.

Ducky did five bodies today. Even when the cause of death was painfully obvious, he took great care and checked out everything. He can't bring himself to work quickly. Not when he sees Jordan's face flash across every one.

One of the other ME's had called him out on it. How had he written out five death certificates when Ducky had only done one? And was it really necessary to do a proper autopsy when the man's arm had been blown off? Wasn't cause of death obvious or was Ducky just too old and out of touch now?

To say Ducky was furious was to say the least. It was the first time security had been called to Autopsy to restrain someone.

--=--=--=--=--

McGee sits at his computer in the squad room. Tony has just finished having a quiet conversation with a shaken (not stirred, he almost chuckles at his own joke sure that in another situation Tony too would have appreciated it) Ziva. She pushes her hair out of her face and then begins to type. After a moment she picks up the phone and her Hebrew, both familiar and unfamiliar to the boys, comes out.

"She okay?" Tim murmurs quietly to Tony. His friend has come to stand by his desk.

"No but she'll pretend she is," Tony answers. He is unable to hide his concern. "What Abby said really hurt her."

"You have to understand where Abby is coming from. I was shocked too. Why didn't Ziva just tell us?," McGee answers and they are both taken aback. Somewhere between Abby's lab and the bullpen, lines were drawn and sides were chosen. Unconsciously, McGee has taken Abby's. There was never any questions about where Tony's loyalty lies.

But there's no time for that and even though he looks briefly disappointed, Tony presses on.

"That's not why I'm here. Something is going on and we need to figure out what it is. There has to be something other than the Mossad connection here. Something bigger is going on here," Tony replies.

Ziva hangs up the phone and stands up.

"I have made a time to talk to my father," she says. "He will have the answers."

"You have to make an appointment to talk to your father?" McGee asks at the same time Tony says, "He might not give you the answers."

"Yes," she says to McGee. She turns to Tony. "Oh he will give me answers. They just might not be the answers I am after."

"Tony's right," Gibbs says and they all turn to find him at the entrance to their 'office.' "Because you won't be talking to him."

"But Gibbs..."

"That's an order, David," he says softly. He is protective and authoratative at the same time.

"What do you know, boss?" Tony asks.

"I know that starting now Ziva is in our protective custody. You aren't leaving this building until I'm satisfied you're safe," he replies.

"I am in your what?" she asks. She slumps a little where she stands. Tony, on the other hands, stands up straighter.

"Why?" he asks. He comes out from behind McGee's desk and stands beside her. "Boss, what is going on? And don't give me that classified it's above your pay-level crap."

"Gibbs, please," Ziva pleads. "If I am in danger, I have a right to know."

Gibbs does his infuriating 'I've heard you but I'm ignoring you' smile and leaves as quickly as he came. Maybe one day, Tony will understand. But judging by the tin of pens that's been flicked onto the floor, it isn't today.


	13. Chapter 13

**NCIS**

**October 19**

**A/N:** And yet another chapter that didn't turn out quite how I imagined... I'm having a massive allergic reaction so I'm covered in cream and trying desperately not to scratch. I was trying to get this out this morning but I took an antihistamine and antihistamines are to me what painkillers are to Tony. My fingers weren't exactly finging but I couldn't quite see clearly either. I'm feeling a little less itchy now so phew. Special thanks to jirrG who helped me with the storyline without even realising and to my friend scouzemus1k for just being her.

**Chapter Thirteen**

Ziva makes her way down to Abby's lab. She takes a moment to steady her breathing and she chuckles to herself. The old Ziva would have burst into the lab without thinking. The new Ziva, scarred by the past and hopeful for the future, has learnt to take things slower and to think things through. When she finally enters, she finds that Abby isn't alone. There are three other people pulling things apart, making notes and staring agitatedly at objects.

Abby is at the computer, head tilted, fingers moving rapidly. She briefly looks up but when she sees Ziva, she goes straight back to her work.

"I know you are mad at me," Ziva begins as Abby pointedly opens and scans a document on the computer. Ziva tries not to be put-off and she continues. "And I understand why but would you please let me explain?"

"I'm kind of busy right now. We're trying to figure out who killed one hundred and five people. Unless you know who did it and you just haven't gotten around to telling us yet," Abby replies snarkily. She briefly glances at Ziva and catches her frown. "Hey, I'm not the one keeping secrets around here so don't look at me like that."

"That was unfair and uncalled for," Ziva says slowly.

"I didn't think so," Abby replies. She closes the file, twirls around and walks towards Major Mass Spec. Ziva steps in front of her and places a hand on her arm. She drags her friend into her office and presses a button. The doors close and the other scientists glance between each other and the glass cage.

"I am sorry it has come to this but you gave me no choice," Ziva jumps in first.

"Your ninja moves might work on McGee and Tony but they don't work on me," Abby spits back.

"Sit down," snaps Ziva in a voice that would make Gibbs proud. At the very least it works on Abby who mutely and slightly abashed takes a seat. "Thank you. Now I know you are angry at me and I am sorry for that. I should have told you about myself and Mara. I did not realise how relevant it would be to the case."

"It has nothing to do with the case," Abby interjects before Ziva can continue. "It feels like you didn't trust me enough to tell me about her from the beginning."

"Any wonder," Ziva asks, "with the way you reacted? Can you not understand why I did not want to tell you?"

"I guess I over-reacted a little bit," Abby mumbles. "But only about you not telling us. I won't apologise for hating them. Or rather what they did. Or still do, in Mara's case."

"And I do not expect you too. Abby, you are one of the best people I know. You are lovely, bright, enthusiastic, generous, forgiving and kind. Is it any wonder I didn't want you to know I associated with, that I loved, people who do things like that?" Ziva asks and her voice carries a pain so deep that tears spring to Abby's eyes. "I am not asking you to forgive them but I am asking you to forgive me. I have come a long way but I realise I still have a longer way to go. So forgive me?"

It takes her less than three seconds to decide. Abby stands up and pulls Ziva into a hug. The Israeli comes into her arms easily now and Abby smiles into her hair. How often they forget who Ziva was before she came to them. They don't even know the half of what she's seen, of what she's done, of what she's been asked to do by the people who were supposed to love her or at the very least protect her. They don't realise that she's done the impossible They can't imagine the pain she's felt or even the pain she's caused. They don't know that sometimes the memories of her time in the Mossad keep her awake at night and sometimes make it impossible for her to breathe.

"Of course I forgive you, Ziva. All you had to do was ask," Abby answers. She holds Ziva close for another ten seconds and then releases her. She looks at her in mock chastisement. "Just do better next time. Actually, while we're at it, any other dark skeletons hanging in the closet?"

"More than I could tell you," is her answer. She grimaces for a moment before she shakes all the skeletons away. She works her face into a friendly, 'pretty please' smile."There is one thing though. I need your help with something."

"Lucky for you, I am amazing. Anything you want, I can do it for you. Well, I might need McGee's help if it has to do with a book and I might need Tony if it has to do with Italian food or a movie but basically anything else, I can do. Unless it involves sandpaper. Or-"

"It has to do with an encrypted file," Ziva interrupts. She loves Abby so much but she knows she has a tendency to babble and time is of the essence. They have already wasted so much time.

"Right down my alley," Abby grins, rubbing her hands together. "Let's do this."

--=--=--=--=--

Tony waits for Gibbs by the elevator. The silver-haired man doesn't look surprised. He just walks into the elevator and waits for Tony to join him. It's Tony that presses the 'stop' button, it's Tony that makes Gibbs wait for him to talk, it's Tony that is in-charge.

"What's going on?" Tony asks. Gibbs looks back at him silently. "I know you always think you know what's best and generally, you do. But not when it comes to Ziva. Not when it comes to her safety."

"I told you two to keep your private life out of my workplace," replies Gibbs. He backs up and leans against the wall knowing that Tony is far from done.

"It's hard to keep our relationship out of the office when her life is in danger. I can't pretend I don't love her, boss. It's not possible," Tony says after a moment. "And yeah, I want her home with me instead of in protective custody but this isn't just about that. I have always given you the benefit of the doubt but I know you know something."

"Something I don't have to share with you," Gibbs says, managing to keep his voice even.

"Yes you do!" Tony yells. It surprises both of them. Gibbs shows his surprise by straightening up and lifting an eyebrow. Tony's surprise shows all over his face but he keeps going. "How can we do our job when people are keeping secrets from us left, right and centre? How can we do anything if YOU are keeping secrets from us?"

"It's never bothered you before," Gibbs reminds him.

"Oh, it's bothered me. And I have forgiven you time and time again. But how many times can I forgive you?" asks Tony. His voice is strained and he hates himself for even having this conversation with his boss and father-figure.

"Are you questioning my judgement?" Gibbs asks. It seems like he's taking control again.

"Never," Tony spits after a moment.

"Then why are we having this conversation?"

"Because I am sick and tired of being left out. And because when you do things like this, it almost seems like you don't trust us," admits Tony. "Boss, we just want to find out who did this. Everybody does. And if there is something you know that could help us, we should all know it."

"You know what I know," Gibbs shrugs and Tony narrows his eyes.

"That was a blatant lie," Tony points out.

"I trust you enough to know when I'm lying," Gibbs says pointedly. "And you should trust me enough to know I'm doing the right thing."

"Tell me why then. At least give me that. Please," Tony says and it almost sounds as if the senior agent is begging. But both men know that would never be the case and they know he's simply asking.

"If I tell you what I know you'd feel compelled to tell Ziva," Gibbs offers him an explanation. It's not enough but it's something. It's a start.

"Uh, boss? Tony?" McGee calls from above them. "You guys have been in there for awhile and there's a bit of a queue up here."

"Tell them to take the stairs," Tony mutters but one look at Gibbs and he realises the conversation is over.

He bangs on the 'stop' button again and the elevator moves up and the doors open. Some agents give them a dirty look as they rush in, eager to get home or to have their lunch. Gibbs walks up to MTAC with nary a word or a backward glance.

"Everything okay?" McGee asks Tony as they make their way back to the bullpen.

"Peachy," Tony replies faux-cheerily. He eyes Ziva's empty desk. "She's not back from seeing Abby yet."

"Nope," McGee answers. He shares a worried look with Tony. "No news is good news, right?"

"Right. They're probably hugging and braiding each others hair as we speak," Tony answers. He looks at his watch. "Don't we have a task force meeting in half an hour?"

"Yep," McGee answers. "We'd better get cracking on Hess's background."

"You take his pre-Mossad years, I'll take the Mossad years," Tony suggests.

"Deal," McGee agrees.

They work companionably for the next twenty-five minutes. They see Gibbs heading towards the elevator with Vance and they stand up, gathering their supplies for the meeting. Ziva rushes over to the bullpen and throws her arms around Tony.

"Hey, hey," he murmurs. "Not that I'm not glad to see you but what's up?"

"I think I know what is going on," she whispers and then she pulls away. She beckons McGee over and they make a little circle. "Abby and I found an encrypted message in an email to me from one of my fathers email addresses. It was a code, one we developed years ago. I think someone is trying to set him up."

"Which explains everything," Tony says sarcastically.

"Which raises more questions," McGee notes. "Does he think you're in danger?"

"Yes and I think he told Vance. That must be why I am in protective custody. We are late. We will talk more about this after the meeting," she whispers. She moves away but the boys wait. "What? We are going to be late."

"You can't say something like that and just walk away," McGee says.

"It's cruel," DiNozzo agrees.

"If we do not go, it will raise suspicion. And perhaps someone from one of the other teams has new information that will help us," Ziva replies urgently.

"You go on. Save us seats. McGee and I just have to print something," Tony replies.

Ziva rolls her eyes and makes it clear she doesn't believe him but she walks ahead anyway.

"I don't like the sound of this," Tony says as soon as she's out of earshot.

"I don't either. It doesn't make sense. First her father wanted her dead and now he's warning her?" McGee agrees. "I don't get it."

They begin to walk slowly to the conference room.

"You know, when the attack happened, I didn't see how anything else could be relevant. It was like the whole world was contained at the bomb site. I couldn't see how anyone could concentrate on anything else and now... is it wrong of me to be more worried about Ziva than about the attack?" Tony wonders. He looks guilty.

"It just makes you a man in love," McGee answers and wants to roll his eyes at how lame it sounds. But Tony's eyes light up, just a touch, and he knows he's said the right thing.


	14. Chapter 14

**NCIS**

**October 19**

**A/N:** Not much longer left now. There's a whole bunch of answers in this chapter. It's quite long too. Please tell me if you're still confused or if there's anything you think I have left out. I'm getting a little confused myself. I just wanted to say that this is just a work of fiction and my storyline in no way reflects how I feel about any government. Besides, I am an Australian and it shouldn't matter what I have to say about the US Government anyway. I know nothing about it. Happy reading and I hope you all had a Happy Easter! I did. I love Easter and I love that there is a whole weekend dedicated to Jesus being alive.

**Chapter 14**

He comes into the lab bearing gifts of salad sandwiches and Caf-Pow! Just like he knows she will, Abby takes the Caf-Pow! and ignores the food.

"You've been working yourself ragged down here," Timothy says. "I thought you might need this."

"How was the task-force meeting?" Abby asks. She takes a big slurp of the drink and smiles gratefully.

"Unfruitful," McGee answers. He shakes his head and reaches out and takes the over-sized cup from Abby. He takes a sip and hands it back. "Turns out that everybody else is at as much of a loss as we are. The CIA have come on board now. They've been sent to find Mara and Hess."

"And we're trying to find a reason why," Abby adds. She sighs. "I can only give you the how and the who. I can only do so much with particulates and data. You have to do the rest."

"We will catch a break. Something has to give. It's only been a week. We will figure this out."

"I just feel like I'm not doing enough," Abby shrugs. "Normally I'm a miracle worker but this time, nothing."

"Hey, you figured out who made the bombs. That is something," McGee disagrees. "In fact, that's more than something. And this isn't a normal situation."

"But I can't find them. I can't find a connection between them. It's almost like they've disappeared off the face of the planet," Abby cries out. She looks so sad and helpless, almost small in her giant boots.

McGee can't help it. He comes over to her and wraps his arm around her. She leans her head on his shoulder and lets him comfort her. He gives her a kiss on the top of her head.

"You are brilliant, Abby. You are brilliant and beautiful and you mean the world to me, you mean the world to all of us. I hate to see you upset over this. You've done all you can. Now you need to let us do the rest," he murmurs. He kisses the top of her head again and lingers for a moment. His heart is beating wildly and he's almost positive Abby can hear it.

"Thanks, McGee," she says back. She pulls away slightly though they keep their arms around each other. "You think I'm beautiful?"

"I think you're the most beautiful woman in the world," he admits. This wasn't what he had planned but there's no going back now. "I always have, probably always will."

"I think you're beautiful too," she replies. She gives him a kiss on his cheek and when she pulls away, they're both smiling.

--=--=--=--=--

"You've been quiet all afternoon," Tony says.

Ziva is sitting alone in a conference room, a cup of steaming tea is on the table. An untouched white chocolate and raspberry muffin from her favourite cafe sits next to the tea. She silently reaches out and breaks a piece of the top off. She places it in her mouth as Tony takes the seat next to her. He puts his hand on her leg and she covers it with her own.

"My father wanted me dead," she whispers. She can't bring herself to look up at him. She shakes her head and he instinctively knows there are tears in her eyes. "He wanted me dead and now he is warning me."

"McGee thought that was a little strange," Tony muses. With a finger, he traces patterns on the tabletop. There is a file, opened and spread out, on the table. Tony glances over at it and then back at his girlfriend. "Did you find anything in there?"

"Nothing I did not already know. Is it so wrong of me to think that an intelligence agency, a _foreign_ agency at that, might give me information even I don't know about my father?" she asks. She finally looks up at Tony and he can't help but mirror her tortured expression back at her.

"Not given your relationship," Tony murmurs.

"I know that is sounds strange but I believe him. If he has friends in high places then he must have enemies in high places too. But why did he warn me?" she asks. "He wanted me dead."

"Maybe he didn't," Tony replies and it kills him to say it. "Maybe he had hope all along that you would survive. He sent ben-Gidon back for you, remember?"

"Yes but because he wanted me or because he wanted to finish the job?" Ziva asks. She looks tired. Tired, sad and worn-out. There is too much going on, too much to deal with, too many unanswered questions, too much hurt.

"I think he wanted you back," Tony finds himself saying. He can't understand why, having disliked Eli from the moment he laid his eyes on him. But he was Ziva's father and there was something in the Directors eyes when he spoke to and of his daughter. Something that Tony recognised in himself. All either of them ever wanted was for her to be safe, for her to love them. But while Eli''s love for Ziva was seemingly conditional, Tony's love for her was unconditional. And his need for her to be happy, to be safe, to feel loved was far greater than any of his own needs and so now, he was giving her what she needed to be those things. "Ziva, I know he has done terrible things and I believe him to be capable of far worse, your father loves you. I hate to say it but he does. And you know it."

"Do I?" she asks and he nods. Because it's true and she does.

--=--=--=--=--

"It doesn't make sense, Jethro," Ducky says. They are sitting at Ducky's desk, a rapidly emptying bottle between them.

How many times had Gibbs heard that over the last few days. Nothing made sense for them anymore. The rest of the world went on but for his team, for the FBI and the CIA and the other agencies, nothing made sense. There was so much intrigue, so much rumour and speculation and almost no breakthrough. Even with his knowledge, Gibbs is having trouble putting it all together.

"Nothing makes sense anymore."

"But it will again. One day," Ducky muses. For the first time since the ordeal began, he begins to sound optimistic. Gibbs smiles inwardly, glad to see the progress. It doesn't last long though. "I know there's something you aren't telling me."

"There's lots of things I'm not telling you," Gibbs answers evenly. He gulps down the rest of his clear liquid and grimaces slightly.

"This one's a doozy though, isn't it? Sometimes I think I would hate to be you. I would hate to bear the burdens you bear. Tell me, Jethro, does it weigh on you? All the secrets, all the agendas, all the things you have to keep to yourself?" Ducky asks. He refills his glass with a slosh and Gibbs wants to take the bottle away from him. Drinking yourself into a stupor never helped anyone.

"They're all doozies, Duck," says Gibbs. He has never felt the need to tell a secret before and this one is no different. "They all weigh on me but I keep these 'secrets' for a reason. That used to be enough for my team."

"It is still enough. But you need to understand that things have changed. They have their reasons for wanting to know the truth. Isn't it better that they hear the truth from you rather than finding it out themselves or, even worse, someone else telling them?" Ducky ponders.

He makes a logical point but Gibbs pours himself another drink and gulps half of it down before continuing.

"No."

And that is all he has to say on the matter.

--=--=--=--=--

After some protest, Ziva sends Tony home to pick up clothes, toiletries and to have a sleep. She takes the hours of peace and quiet to go through her contacts. She makes a list and crosses each one off as she calls them. It takes her three hours and a bathroom break but then an email pops up on her screen. It's from an agent she worked with in Cairo, when they were tracking Mara down. She opens it and reads through it once then scrolls back up and reads through it again. She stands up and makes her way out of the bullpen and down to Autopsy where she knows she will find Ducky and Gibbs.

Tony sees her retreating form as he enters the bullpen. He knows that stance, can see the urgency in her step and he races after her. He enters Autopsy a few seconds after her and finds her standing silently in front of the two older men.

"Gibbs, I have something to tell you," she says. "I received an email from a contact in Egypt. He told me that Hess is dead. He was killed five months ago in Jordan in a botched extraction. He also told me that he'd heard about Mara, though he knew her as Rebecca O'Donnell. Apparently she never stopped working for my father. But you knew that."

His silence speaks volumes so she continues.

"He also said that Mara's Interpol record was doctored to make it seem like she went rogue. The only true thing on it is that she married Neil O'Donnell and she is based in Ireland. But you knew that too," she continues.

"Can you verify any of this?" Gibbs asks.

"I trust my contact explicitly. They would never lie to me, Gibbs. The question is, can you verify it or are you trusting someone too?" Ziva asks but there is no rebuke in her voice.

"Touché, David," Gibbs answers. He relaxes his shoulders slightly. "What else did your contact tell you?"

"He told me that he knows for a fact that while Mara and Hess may have built the bombs, they did not place them," she replies.

"Did he know why you and your father are in danger?" Tony asks.

"Better yet, did he know who did plant the bombs?" Gibbs asks.

"He told me that under my father's orders, Mara had infiltrated a terrorist cell in Egypt. From Egypt, they moved to Ireland and she went with them. She was in too deep to leave and by then she was engaged to O'Donnell. She couldn't have left even if she wanted too."

"Is O'Donnell a goodie or a baddie?" Tony wants to know.

"A 'goodie.' He himself is undercover for the Secret Intelligence Service, more commonly known as MI-6. The terrorist group is an offshoot of the Third Day Movement, the group that Mara worked for in Cairo when we found her. They are not the kind of people you want to get on the wrong side of. They found out that my father had a mole in the group and now they are out for his blood."

"That part makes sense but was it this Third Day Movement group that planted the bombs? And why?" Tony asks.

"And what about Mara? Was she compromised?" Gibbs asks.

"My contact did not say but I can only hope that she is safe. As for the bombs, I think Gibbs might know more about than I do," answers Ziva. She turns her attention onto Gibbs and quirks an eyebrow. "I have done my part. I have given you more information from one email than the entire task force has. I think you owe me that much."

"Jethro," Ducky's voice says from the desk. He looks at his old friend and nods. "I think it's time to let one of your secrets go."

"The US Government knew of an impending attack on US soil months before it happened. I found out only hours before. There was no indication where the attack was going to be or what it was going to be. They didn't think it was serious enough to inform any of us about it. They didn't think it could be stopped," Vance says from behind them.

"I forgot to close the door," Tony whispers to his boss. "I didn't even hear him come in."

"Do you think that was a wise choice?" Ziva asks. Tony opens his mouth and then, realising she isn't talking to him, snaps it shut.

"What I do or don't think isn't relevant, Agent David. I am not responsible for what happened," he replies. He looks mournful for a moment. "At least I wasn't responsible. I am now. I'm responsible for finding out who did this and why."

"Did they give a reason why?" Tony asks as he snaps back into himself. "When they warned us that this was going to happen, did they leave a reason?"

"Retaliation. But not against your father," he answers, addressing Ziva. She lifts herself up to her full height and nods. He turns his attention back to the group at large. "Retaliation for disbanding one of their cells. A cell led by one Saleem Ulman."

"This is because of us?" asks Tony. He sees Ziva falter a little. She walks backwards until she is leaning against an autopsy table. He immediately goes to her side and puts a protective arm around her. "This is not your fault."

"It certainly feels like it. I told you you should not have come," she says feebly. He sees the torture in her eyes and he knows that she will not be getting any sleep tonight or any time soon.

"How can you say that?" he asks as tortured as she is. "Look at what we have."

"But is this worth it, Tony? Is it worth the death of over one hundred people? Do you know how many lives have been changed, have been ruined, so that we can be together? So that I can be alive?" she whispers back urgently.

"I would rescue you again in a heartbeat, Ziva," Tony says seriously. "Even knowing what I know now, I would do it again. The attack might have happened anyway. We have no way of knowing. What is the point of torturing ourselves asking those kind of questions?"

"I said the Government knew of the attacks months before they happened," Vance butts in on their private moment. "Seven months before, Ziva. You were only gone for four. They knew about this a good two months before you were captured. But now you understand why I had to question you. A terrorist cell that you were in the custody of blows up a Marine ball on a US Navy base? What else could I do?"

"Yes. What I do not understand is that this has to do with my father," she replies.

"I'm beginning to think that the threat on your father and the attack are completely unrelated," replies Tony. "Maybe not completely unrelated but close enough to it."

"The same group is after him but I agree with Tony that the bombing was unrelated. I also believe that the Government has a lot to answer for on this one. Sometimes I question why I work for them," Vance replies. "But it's worth it when they do pass on vital information and we can save lives. This one was taken out of our hands."

"I'm glad you all think so," Ducky says. He has his collected his hat, jacket and briefcase. He looks at Tony and Ziva. "Just remember that three young boys are motherless now. Think about that when you are sleeping in each others arms at night."

"Ducky," Ziva calls out but he's already too far gone.


	15. Chapter 15

**NCIS**

**October 19**

**A/N:** It is quite cold today. It's a lovely day to be inside writing and wearing woolly socks and my flanno. I'd never wear it out of the house but it's so comfortable. I'm dreading work tomorrow (I have to be up at 5.30 in the morning) but only eight work days left and I am on holidays for two and a half glorious weeks! I can't tell you how much I need a holiday. And a haircut. And a manicure. And a swimming costume. Probably only one chapter left after this but a really long one. I get both sad and excited when I finish a story. Happy reading!

**Chapter Fifteen**

"Just let him go," Gibbs says to Ziva.

"I didn't mean anything by it," Tony apologises. He looks guilty and quite sorry for himself. "I only meant that-"

"I know what you meant, Tony," Gibbs interrupts. "Ducky knows it too. It's just going to take him some time to get over Jordan's death."

"As it should," Vance adds. "I want you all to know that I sincerely disagree with the actions and the decisions of the government. If it had been up to me I would have given you every chance and every resource to stop this before it happened. It's too late now, I understand, but I still want you to know. I am on your side."

"Ziva, your contact. I need you to tell me honestly how reliable he is," Gibbs says. He glances at Vance and gives him a small approving nod. "Can he give us any evidence or any way of verifying what he said?"

"He is reliable. He is an officer in Mossad. Quite high-up, quite close to my father. But I'm afraid the only way of verifying what he has said is to go to my father," she answers regrettably. "The Mossad doesn't exactly keep files detailing missions like this."

"There would have to be some record of it somewhere," Vance disagrees.

"Yes but nowhere we could get access to it," she replies. And she would know. "I am going to have to go to my father."

"I'll clear MTAC for you," Vance says. He glances at Gibbs, daring him to challenge him but Gibbs only nods grimly.

"I'll be there with you," Gibbs says.

"So will I," Tony pipes up.

--=--=--=--=--

The rainbow lines on the MTAC screen turn into Eli David's face. He looks older, wearier, than last time they spoke.

"Shalom, Ziva," he speaks.

"Shalom, Papa," she replies. She gives him the tiniest of smiles and he gives her a larger one back.

"Are you well?" he asks.

"I suppose, considering the circumstances," she shrugs. She can practically feel Tony's jaw locking and popping behind her. The room is tense and no-one knows quite what to expect. "I am here with Director Vance and Special Agents Gibbs and DiNozzo."

"So this is not a social call, daughter?" he asks. He now spies the men that have come out of the shadows.

"No, it's not," Vance answers for her.

"We need your files on Mara Cohen aka Rebecca O'Donnell," Tony says. He comes to stand next to Ziva, as her equal and her support. "Specifically the files that say she never defected and she has been working for you this whole time. Also, some kind of proof that she didn't plant those bombs herself or for you would be nice. We assume you've heard about the terrorist attack that occurred a week ago."

"I did not plant those bombs," a strong voice says from off-screen. Mara comes into view and peers at the assembled group. "I will admit to producing the bomb but I had no idea where they were going. If I had known..."

"Mara?" Ziva asks in shock. "You are still alive?"

"I am still alive," Mara answers. She smiles warmly at Ziva. "You do look good. America agrees with you."

"It appears Ireland agrees with you too," Ziva replies evenly. She isn't one hundred percent sure where they stand. "I thought you had gone rogue."

"Like Ari? Cut from the same clothes?" she asks. Tony groans and mutters the correction to himself. "We are two very different people. I could never turn my back on my country and I regret ever making you think I could."

"You certainly convinced me," Ziva replies. "But I understand."

"While this is a lovely little reunion, we have more pressing issues to attend too," Gibbs interrupts. "Like for example, Mara, maybe you could tell us who did plant the bombs."

"It's Rebecca now," she corrects. She looks at Eli who nods. "I have Intel that I will send over to you. You will find that a man by the name of Piers Tod smuggled mine and Hess's bombs into the country. He owns a small airstrip in Virginia. It is quite often used to smuggle in weapons, money, people into the US. The CIA are aware of it but they have not been able to move in yet. Maybe this will give them the ammunition they need."

"What else can you tell us?" Vance asks.

"It was a three man team. Two of them posed as waiters and planted the bombs before joining the third outside. They waited until the bombs had gone off and then as you know, they fired upon the survivors," she explains. She shakes her head. "Good luck finding them though."

"Oh, we'll get them," Gibbs replies.

"Yes but you will not get them alive," Mara/Rebecca answers. "It is my belief that they are already dead."

"Your belief or your knowledge?" Vance asks.

"My knowledge," she says after a moment. "You probably have not heard about a small fire in an apartment in Cairo this morning. I think you will find that the names of the deceased match those of the suspected bombers."

"Did you kill them?" Tony asks.

"Agent DiNozzo, is it? I only found out three hours ago that these men were responsible. Even I am not that efficient," she scoffs.

"So you're telling us that the men responsible are dead?" Vance asks. "That's an awfully tidy bow."

"And killed by someone in their own ranks," Rebecca replies. "There are things going on here that even I am unaware of. For somebody who is supposed to be a leader in the Movement, that is bad news. But I can verify everything that I have said. I can give you any Intel that you need."

"Mar- I mean, Rebecca, what are you going to do now? The news is out there that there is a mole. How long until they trace it back to you?" Tony wonders.

"We have taken care of that," Rebecca answers.

"You mean you let someone else take the blame," Tony replies with a dry laugh. There is no honour left anywhere in the world, he thinks briefly.

Eli and Rebecca exchange a glance.

"I have requested the disbandment of the Movement," Rebecca says. "I have told my 'partners' that its too risky what with the mole and with both the Mossad and the Americans breathing down my neck. I have told them that at the very least I am out."

"Do you think they'll disband the movement?" Tony asks. He's asking more for Ziva's sake than anything else. If they have been disbanded then maybe she won't be in danger anymore.

"Either way I am out. I am pregnant, Ziva. Neil and I are over the moon," she announces with a large smile.

"Congratulations," Ziva grins back. She is genuinely happy for her friend. "You will let me know when the baby is born?"

"Of course. And I will send the Intel as soon as I can," she answers. She ducks out of view and Eli is left alone.

"I hope we have been helpful," he says.

"We'll have to wait and see," Gibbs replies.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Eli," Vance adds.

"It is my pleasure," replies Eli. He looks over at his daughter. "It was good to speak to you, Ziva."

"Director David, before you go," Gibbs interrupts. The Director nods for him to continue. "The threat against Ziva and yourself. Is it still viable?"

There is a small chuckle from Eli and he shakes his head, "Agent Gibbs, the answer is no. This threat is no longer... viable... as you say. I regret worrying you over it."

"Papa," Ziva says. "I want to ask you one more thing."

"Anything, daughter," he agrees.

"Was there any way you could have stopped this?" she wants to know.

"No," he answers, shaking his head. "If Rebecca did not know, how could I have? There is nothing I could have done."

"Okay," she replies. She goes to turn away but he speaks to her.

"I regret making you believe I wanted your death, Ziva," he says before she can cut him off. "You are my only living child, my legacy. And what a good legacy you are turning out to be. I always thought you would survive the camp. I never believed you would be captured."

"That certainly explains why you never sent an extraction team," she says sarcastically.

"You make a valid point. But, Ziva, I never sent a team because I truly believed you were dead," he replies.

"What about Malachai? He told me that that was the plan. To leave me behind. I was never supposed to survive and that is why you did not send an extraction team," she replies. She can feel Vance's disapproving eyes behind her but they are in too far now and she needs answers for herself.

"He misunderstood my intent. I never sent an extraction team because I assumed you were dead when you did not return and did not make contact," Eli answers. "I just wanted you to know, for what it's worth."

"Thank you," she replies. She makes the cut-off sign and they are plunged into darkness.

"Well, that was about as much fun as a root canal," Tony remarks when the lights are flickering back on.

Vance rolls his eyes at the remark and Gibbs points towards the door.

"Abby's lab. Let's go," he orders and they all file out after him.

--=--=--=--=--

The computers in Abby's lab beep and whir incessantly. There is a tense silence in the room as they play the waiting game. Finally Abby and McGee look up from their stations.

"Everything checks out," Abby says.

"We've verified everything twice. Everything adds up, nothing is out of place," McGee agrees.

"It looks like Mara and Director David were telling the truth. The three men who carried out the attack were brothers. Shaheen, Amid and Fakhir Jamir. They entered the US on September 20th and left on October 20th. They gave the reason of their stay as pleasure. I guess they weren't exactly going to tell the truth. 'Here to blow things up and kill people,'" Abby continues. "The catering service took photos of all the employees. It's their policy these days, after a string of food thefts. I was able to track down photos of two of the brothers, Shaheen and Fakhir, and match them to these two photos taken by the company. Amid must have stayed outside."

"We also found this website," McGee says. He brings the page up. It's nothing they haven't seen before. It's a pro-Islam, anti-American website. McGee plays a grainy video of the brothers who not only proclaim that they are going to carry out the attack but name the Third Day Movement as their sponsors. They thank the movement for giving them the opportunity to bring destruction and misfortune to the people of America.

Despite having seen it all before, everybody in the room collectively shivers. What had they done to deserve such hatred and such opposition? Granted, it was only a select few people who felt that way but it still shook them. They stand in silence as the video ends.

"I suppose I'd better go to the Chiefs," Vance says eventually. "They're going to want to know that we've figured it out."

"I would like to go and talk to Ducky," Ziva says.

"What happened with Ducky?" Abby asks in concern.

"Life happened to Ducky," Gibbs explains. He kisses her on the head. "Good work today, Abs. Good work all of you. I know this cant have been easy for you."

"We're all just glad it's over," McGee answers and everybody agrees.


	16. Chapter 16

**NCIS**

**October 19**

**A/N:** I am off to Thailand in three sleeps (well two and a half because we have to leave for the airport at three-thirty in the morning) and I really wanted to get this finished before then. Mission accomplished, I think. I have loved writing this story despite the difficulties. I thank everyone who read it, reviewed and stuck it with it from beginning to end. Let's face it, we don't write for ourselves and it's always nice to have your work appreciated. I haven't had more than five days off in sixteen months so two and a half weeks off sounds pretty much like want to know something embarrassing? I could have sworn I checked and that Jordan's last name was Hammond. But it isn't. It's Hampton. I may or may not go back and change it but I just want you to know that I feel really silly.

**Chapter Sixteen**

Jordan's funeral is held on a Wednesday morning. The team attends, as promised, though things are still tense between them and the friendly doctor. But there's a moment when Ducky watches Tony place his hands on Patrick's shoulder and the young boy looks up at him. There is a kindness and a sadness in the agent's eyes and Ducky feels a momentary pang of guilt. The guilt intensifies when he sees Ziva reach other and briefly rest her hand on Tony's hand. The two glance at each other and Ducky knows it. He knows that what Tony said was not wrong. Insensitive maybe but then so was Ducky. Anyone who looked at the two would know that everything possible should be done to keep them together. No one would ever try to keep them apart.

Tony looks over and catches Ducky's eye. He nods solemnly at him and Ducky nods back. He tries to add a smile to it and he notices that both their eyes tear up as Tony returns it. When the funeral is over and he has said a sufficient goodbye to Jordan, Ducky makes his way over to the group.

"Thank you for coming today," he says to them.

"Of course," Ziva replies. She gives Ducky a quick squeeze.

"It was a beautiful service," McGee adds.

"It was, wasn't it? I know that the boys really appreciate you being here," Ducky says. "I wonder, Tony, if I could have a word with you."

"Sure," he agrees. He steps to the side with him. "Ducky, before you say anything, I just wanted to apologise about what I said. I didn't think. I was being insensitive."

"And I was harsh and unwarranted," Ducky adds. "I would like to apologise too. I would never wish Ziva's death and I would never wish for you to be apart. I was just hurting and missing my friend. But Jordan is gone and there is nothing we can do about that. I should, however, be more mindful of my friends who are still alive."

"So we're good?" Tony asks, never one to prolong apologies.

"We are good," Ducky says. He holds out his hand for a handshake but Tony bypasses it and goes straight for a hug.

"We're better than that, Ducky," he jokes.

**--=--=--=--=--**

The thing that shocks them the most is that when it's over, it isn't over. There is no getting away. There is no peace. There is no relief.

There are interviews, nosy reporters asking nosy questions. There are families who want to know more about the family that killed their loved ones. There are protest groups condemning the death of the terrorists, there are other groups praising it. There are loose ends to tie up, evidence to finish cataloguing, bodies to be buried, people to check up on.

The newspapers, the television, the radio, all are full of articles and stories and editorials and pictures and headlines. Most of them ask why? Why are we so hated? America, the great. America, the beautiful. America, the free. America, the dream. But like so many other questions, these remained unanswered. Some things were just never meant to be known.

Slowly, though, they begin to distance themselves. As each box gets put into the evidence locker, as each unidentified body gets its name back, it gets easier and then the day comes when they don't think about it at all.

--=--=--=--=--

'Rebecca' sends Ziva a long letter. She has a little boy, Ruben Lee O'Donnell. Against all odds, the Third Day Movement had been disbanded but only after the three highest ranking officials had been arrested, tried and sent to prison. Rebecca and Neil had saved themselves by 'informing' on the rest of the group. They sent out word that they had given bad information, that they were going to continue their work. But mostly she wrote about her son, about his ten fingers and his ten toes and his mop of dark brown hair and the way he sleeps with his hand under his chin. And its this, not the talk about the arrest of the leaders or the disbandment of the terrorist group, that brings Ziva joy.

--=--=--=--=--

Standing on the verandah of a large Victorian house, an elderly man watches headlights disappear. He watches until after they've disappeared before he turns and goes inside. He runs into Jimmy who is in the process of pulling his jacket on.

"You're leaving?" Ducky asks.

"We have an early start tomorrow, doctor," Jimmy replies. Despite everything they have been through and the strength of their friendship, calling Ducky 'doctor' is a habit he can't seem to shake.

"You could stay in the spare room if you like," Ducky suggests. He doesn't know why he still insists on the charade of calling it the spare room when it's quite clearly become Jimmy's room. And why not? He is so much space now that is mother is in a home.

"You know I would but I kind of promised Louise I'd come by tonight," Jimmy replies, referring to his girlfriend of five months. He pauses for a moment and then he smiles. "It was good to see Jordan's boys tonight. They're doing really well."

"They are, aren't they?" he agrees. He smiles fondly. "They are such a delight. And we only have to look at our Anthony to see that boys who lose a parent can turn out well."

"Ducky, how are you doing?" Jimmy asks. "It's been seven months, you know."

"I know, Jimmy," Ducky says quietly. He knows exactly how many days. He isn't sure when he's going to stop counting the days but he knows it has been two hundred and eighteen days. But those days haven't all been dark and dreary. In fact some of them had been quite joyful. He never forgot his dear, departed friend but he was old and he didn't know how long he had left. He wanted to spend the rest of his days surrounded by happiness and the other people that he loved. It had taken some time and a good tongue-lashing from a concerned (and a lost without him) Abby before he had realised that he couldn't spend his days miserable. He was hurting himself and those around him. It was time. Time to move on.

"It's gone quickly," Jimmy muses. He smiles. "I can't believe I've managed to keep a girl for five months. And it's not just physical."

"Too much information, Palmer," Ducky says and rolls his eyes good-naturedly. Palmer beams back at him.

"Ducky, I think she might be it for me," Jimmy says. "I know it's only been five months but it feels right."

"Then it probably is right, my boy," Ducky answers gently. He pats the young man's arm. "Say hello to her for me, won't you?"

"Of course. I'll see you in the morning," he replies. "Good night, Dr. Mallard."

"Good night, Palmer."

He walks Jimmy outside and watches again as the headlight disappear. He walks inside to his big, empty house. He should feel alone but he doesn't. Just knowing that he has friends out there, knowing there are a family of people who love him is enough. And it always will be.

--=--=--=--=--

In a room that always smells of sawdust and bourbon, a man sits on a stool and stares at his latest finished boat. He smiles at it fondly, stands up and glides his hand across it smoothly. He fumbles around for his phone, takes it out of his pocket and dials a number.

"Hey Duck. I'm almost finished. You want to come help me name her?" he says.

"I will be there in thirty minutes," the doctor replies. He hangs up without another word but that's okay with Gibbs. He's never really liked words and he and Ducky have never really needed them. He smiles again at that though. He and Ducky may not have needed words but he's always and abundantly used them.

When the thirty minutes are up, Gibbs hears the steady thud of feet crossing the floor above him. In a few moments, Ducky's hat peeks down the stairs followed by the rest of the man. He gets to the bottom of the stairs and removes his hat and jacket.

"My, she's a beauty, Jethro. You've really outdone yourself on this one," he enthuses taking in the boat. He runs his hand across the smoothed and varnished wood. This one has a navy blue painted hull, a slight difference to his normally uncoloured vessels. He walks to the back of the boat where Gibbs is standing.

"She's no different to any other boat," Gibbs shrugs but Ducky can hear the pride in his voice and he sees it in his eyes. He holds up a black paintbrush and a chisel. "We carve it in first and then we paint it."

"Jethro, are you sure you want to do this?" asks Ducky. He's been doing so well and healing so wonderfully but for just a moment that old pain creeps into his voice. It's been seven months and the one-year mark is first approaching.

Gibbs surprises them both by putting the chisel down and patting Ducky's hand.

"It feels right, Duck. It's a beautiful name for a beautiful boat," he replies. He removes his hand and begins the painstaking job of carving the name into the boat.

When it's finished, they both stand back and gaze at her proudly. The 'Jordan' stands in front of them, gleaming, proud and beautiful just like the original. They are silent for a few moments and then Ducky turns to his old friend.

"So now will you tell me how you get the boat out?" he asks.

Gibbs just smiles and turns away.

--=--=--=--=--

Across town a man sits typing at his typewriter as quietly as he can. Abby is watching a movie and he's trying desperately not to disturb her. She's been unusually grumpy these past few days and he's walking on eggshells around her and bringing her extra Caf-Pow! He hears a loud sigh and it seems out of place with a woman who is joyfully watching 'Toy Story.' He had groaned out loud when she'd produced the DVD with a grin and an exclamation that his television was so much bigger and better than hers. Secretly he'd been ecstatic. He hadn't seen the movie since he'd taken a younger cousin when it first came out and he'd really enjoyed it. Watching her watch the movie was the most peaceful he had seen her in awhile and, as always, it had inspired him. He had crept over to the typewriter and began to type as Woody and Buzz fought to become the alpha male.

"What are you writing?" Abby asks as she comes up behind Tim. He jumps ten feet into the air and fumbles to cover the material. It only piques her curiosity more. "Is it dirty?"

"No, it's not dirty," he replies, offended. "But it is private."

"We have no secrets, McGee," she says, partly to tease and partly because its true.

"Well let this be the first then," he replies. He keeps his hand covering the paper but he doesn't really struggle when she pulls it away. He sits back in his chair and closes his eyes as she reads the words.

_'How do you tell someone you love them? How do you tell them that they are your best friend and when a man and a woman are best friends, they should be together? What better person to spend your life than someone who knows all your secrets, all your ins and outs, who can tell a mood by the height of their pigtails? Who else will still love you when they have seen you at your lowest and helped you get back to your best? But how do you tell them? How do you let them know?'_

"Like that," she whispers. She turns around so she's between McGee and the desk. "That's pretty romantic, Timmy."

He looks at her nervously and he opens his mouth to protest but something stops him. Abby is undoing her hair. He watches as she pulls the red and black elastics up and redoes her pigtails high on her head.

"What does that mean?" she asks.

"It means..." his voice catches in his throat. He swallows, pushes his hair back and starts again. "It means you're really happy."

"Not happy, Timmy. Ecstatic," she corrects him. She gives him a big, beaming smile and he slowly grins back. For a moment her smile falters and she glares at him. "You were writing that about me, weren't you?"

"Who else?" he asks. He reaches up around her waist and pulls her towards him. She sits on his lap and kisses him on the forehead. He brushes his hand down the side of her face.

"Who else would be able to read that and know exactly who it is for?"

Their lips meet and they pull apart for breath and then they meet again. Eventually they move to a more comfortable position on the couch. The movie still plays on the screen, abandoned and unheard.

"You're it for me, Abby," McGee says.

"Can we make it work this time?" she asks. "We broke-up for a reason."

"We broke-up because Gibbs told us to," he replies. "And it's one of the biggest regrets of my life."

"We might not have made it anyway," Abby says.

"Maybe now but now we have a chance and I think we should take it," says McGee. His usually steady voice is desperate and feverish. "We can make this work."

"We can make this work," Abby agrees with a nod. She smiles and kisses him again. "We will make this work."

And they will.

--=--=--=--=--

A man and a woman lay in bed asleep. They've officially been a couple for one year, five weeks, three days and twelve minutes. The woman murmurs something in her sleep and rolls over. She cosies up next to the man and, still asleep, he rearranges himself around her.

Tony wakes up and finds himself breathing into Ziva's hair. He pushes the hair away and kisses the back of her neck. She stirs and cuddles up closer to him still.

"You awake?" he whispers into the dark.

"I am not," she whispers back. She giggles lightly and he playfully nibbles her ear. "Stop it, Tony. I need my sleep or I'll be tired in the morning. And you know what tired Ziva means."

"You become radiant, stunning and lovely to be around?" he suggests. She yawns as he nibbles her ear again.

"Quite the opposite," she murmurs.

"I think we should tell them tomorrow," Tony says. He feels Ziva shift but he holds her tight against his body.

"Okay. If that's what you want," she agrees. She twists her head around awkwardly for one last kiss.

His hand comes to rest on her stomach. Their left hands entwine, covering up the secret.

"_Neshama?"_ asks Ziva after a moment. She can practically feel Tony's smile from behind her. He waits for her to talk again. "I can't sleep."

--=--=--=--=--

It's November 26. The phones start ringing at 0720. But this time the rings don't bring destruction, death and despair. They bring love, they bring life and most importantly, they bring hope.

It's good news all around.


End file.
